


Temptation

by Anytha



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU before Hydra, Angst, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Romance, mentions of Sci-Ops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anytha/pseuds/Anytha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was always there, that little urge to step across the line that would change their relationship but then rationality and, most importantly, fear of losing each other for something unknown -although temptingly marvellous- would make them backtrack and walk around that boundary line, occasionally skim it, blur it even, but never fully cross it. FitzSimmons. Prompt #12.Temptation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disconnected from the Headcanon prompts universe. I have a lot of angsty Fitz feelings since Agent Triplett appeared. This story started in my head weeks ago and wouldn't leave...until I somehow forgot about it, caught in other stories.
> 
> It's a multichapter: three chapters, depending on my inspiration. I hope you guys like and give me loads of feedback.
> 
> As for the timeline... Somewhere after Episode 15, before the whole Hydra mess.
> 
> Prompt is #12. Temptation.
> 
> Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 who helped me edit this.

* * *

**flux, n**

_The natural state. Our moods change. Our lives change. Our feelings for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air changes. The temperature of the shower changes._

_Accept this. We must accept this._

_-The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan-_

* * *

 

  
Their mission had been long and tiring.

  
The whole Team's common thought was to get to the Bus, shower and get a good and _very_ appreciated night’s rest.

Unfortunately, the Bus was a three hours car drive from their current location, a small town in the middle of the mountains of Switzerland that was far from any SHIELD facility. Even May didn’t want to venture on a long car trip in a non familiar area.

After a quick talk with them, Agent Coulson opted for the team to stay at the town's local hotel and then leave in the morning.

So that's what brought them here, all standing in the hallway adorned by paintings, a few pictures from old guests and a cuckoo clock. On their right was a small guest room with a Tv set and, soft couches and armchairs while on their left, there was a door that, judging by the lingering aroma, led to the kitchen. There were large windows framed by heavy drapes that showed the lush landscape.

The hotel had a domestic and home-like hint to it: there was a warmth that radiated from its wood panelled walls and richly draped tapestries.

All in all, the hotel seemed quite comfortable looking.

The Team stood around the small reception table, all carrying their backpacks and -in FitzSimmons' case- metal cases. Exhaustion was clear on their faces though it was more prominent on the younger agents.

Ward was doing the talking with Coulson, both speaking in fluent French and would every now and then, turning around to give an update to May and Skye who were standing at their sides. The hacker looked close to falling asleep right there on the plush carpet in front of the desk and just nodded to whatever Coulson said while May stood in silence.

FitzSimmons stood a bit behind, their equipment cases at their sides and forced their tiredness away as they tried to listen to quick exchange between the older men and the woman at the desk.

The kind faced woman at the reception was leafing through the hotel's reservation book and checking which rooms were available.

After a few minutes, she looked at Ward with a chagrined stare.

  


“Je suis desolée, Monsieur.”

  


-:-

  


Jemma was listening to the conversation between Ward, Coulson and the woman and kept Fitz updated, translating quickly. Her French was not as fluent as Ward's but she understood everything.

She saw Ward's face fall for a second.

“Oh,” she said, as she heard the receptionist talk. “It seems that there are only three rooms left.”

“Wonderful,” Fitz remarked with a huff. “So we're all bound to share a room. How is it even possible that this bloody hotel is almost full? There isn't bloody anything here!”

She rolled her eyes at him. A tired Fitz was also a rather grumpy Fitz. She listened carefully as Coulson asked Fitz's question -in a more delicate and polite way.

“It seems that there is a famous skiing resort an hour away from here,” Jemma said. “People booked their rooms here so they could pay less.”

Fitz muttered something incoherent under his breath. She failed to hide a smile at his antics and resumed to listen to the conversation again.

She felt him shift closer to her to listen better, felt the back of his hand ghost her hand, caught a soft whiff of his cologne and she felt the familiar slight flutter in her stomach. She promptly ignored the feeling and concentrated.

It was happening too often lately...

She dared to glance at Fitz and found him staring at her, blue eyes trained on her face. The flutter turned into a full whirlwind now. He smiled softly, making her automatically copy the action, and then averted his gaze.

“We'll have to decide who rooms with whom,” he commented and looked at her with a grin. “Dibs?”

“Do you even have to _ask_?” She asked with a teasing tone and a raised eyebrow . “It won't be any different from when we're back at our houses for the holidays.”

Fitz looked at her curiously for a moment before nodding in agreement. She ignored the fluttering in her stomach again and almost missed the exchange between Ward and the receptionist.

Her eyes widened.

“What?” Fitz asked immediately. “What's wrong?”

“Two rooms have twin beds,” She explained quickly as Ward jabbered in quick French. “The other one had one queen size bed. Ward's asking if two extra beds or cots can be added to the double rooms but it seems that it might n- no, they can't do that.”

“Wonderful...” Fitz stated. “This complicates things...”

Jemma silently agreed.

They were all dead tired and it was almost eleven o'clock, she doubted that they had the patience to start to discuss about their night accommodations after being on their feet for forty eight hours.

“We'll be here for hours,”  she said with a sigh and watched as Ward informed Skye and May about the rooms. The hacker, who looked as she about to fall asleep there on her feet, suddenly looked alert. “Oh God, Skye looks like she's about to fight her way to one of the double rooms.”

“Well... Can't really blame her. If we're taking the same room, she'll probably end up with May. Imagine her and May sharing a bed.”

Jemma glanced at him and then at the brunette. She realised that he was right.

“Hmm… We might end up tossing a coin to decide who goes with who.”

Fitz looked alarmed.

“God, no,” He remarked, running a hand through his hair. She turned to him again and smiled sympathetically. She could understand his sentiment: the thought of sharing a room -or God forbid, a bed- with May, Coulson or Ward was just plain awkward. She wouldn't sleep or relax or anything.

She wouldn't mind sharing with Skye: they were both girls and both too dead on their feet to even bother to talk as they did during their girl nights. But that would leave Fitz out with the older agents.

May and Ward: they wouldn't share unless they were forced to, she supposed. Given their history and previous affair/relationship, she doubted they could share a bed together.

Skye and Ward: no way... The blatantly obvious tension between those two would cause an explosion.

That left all the combinations with Coulson and that was awkward to say the least...

As for Fitz...

Somehow the thought of sharing a bed with him put her in a state that she couldn't define as awkwardness. They had shared a room countless times, sometimes a bed at the Academy when one was too tired to go back to his or her room.

She was used to him: he didn't make her nervous. Even the small moments of embarrassment that would cause a blush to invade her face (moments that had increased after the Chitauri incident) had slowly disappeared. During those months in the Team, their relationship had shifted, allowing their seamless intellectual bond to stretch to their physical proximity too.

She was aware of his presence -she had always been aware of his closeness- but it didn't cause her any tension or nervousness.

He just made her feel something that sent tingles through her heart. Made her question her emotions and their not-at-all-platonic tint. It made all the questions that had filled her mind since the Academy to come back with renewed strength.

Jemma sighed through her teeth: what the bloody hell was she doing, thinking of this now?

She looked at Fitz who was staring at their teammates with a wary expression: he was probably deciding who was the less objectionable roommate for the night if a coin was really tossed to make decisions.

His forlorn expression and her own tiredness made her make a quick decision.

“Fitz.”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you tired?”

“Knackered.”

“Me too and I desperately want to shower and sleep.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“We could leave the others deal with the rooms, you know?”

“And just how...?” He turned to her and stared, seeing her face and her arched brow. “ _Oh_.” Of course, he would understand right away.

“It would be just for a night... Some sort of Academy/Sci-Ops revival?”

He snorted.

“Night before final exams revival,yeah... ” He commented absently, scratching the back of his neck. He looked thoughtful for a moment.“If it doesn't bother you, then...”

She frowned slightly at his words. He said things of these sort often lately...

“It doesn't bother me, Fitz,” She retorted. “ _I_ suggested it.”

“Right then...”

She walked forward to their teammates and heard Skye saying that she kicked in her sleep and shouldn't be sleeping in a bed with anyone.

Smiling slightly to herself, Jemma stepped past her and turned to Ward.

“Which are the keys to the room with the queen bed?” She asked. The specialist blinked at her and picked a small key with a wooden charm attached to it. “Fitz and I will take that.”

Ward stared at her. As did Skye with her mouth open. May and Coulson didn't even blink.

“Oh...” Skye recovered and smirked. “Anything to share, Simmons?”

Jemma rolled her eyes at the teasing hint in her voice and failed to stop the slight blush flooding her face.

“It's just a bed,” She replied. “And just for one night. And-”

“-we've already shared in the past when we were at the Academy.” Fitz added, approaching her with their equipment cases. “Plus, we're bloody tired.”

They waited for anyone to protest but their teammates didn't say a word. Coulson and May actually looked at them with something close to relief mixed with amusement. Jemma didn't linger to think too much about that...

She looked at the receptionist.

“Pardonnez moi, ou est cette chambre?” She asked.

“Première étage, mademoiselle,” the woman replied, seemingly surprised that she knew French as well. “C'est la neuvième, dernière chambre à gauche.”

“Merci beaucoup, madame.”

Jemma turned to Fitz.

“Room number 9, first floor, the last one on the left,” She said and he nodded, taking the stairs with both their cases before she could stop him. She turned to look at Agent Coulson.

“At what time are leaving tomorrow, Sir?”

“We'll take it easy,” he said with a slight smile. “I'd say we have breakfast or even lunch here and then leave. The Bus and the SUV are both locked so we don't have to worry of anything.”

“Alright then...” She looked smiled at her teammates. “Goodnight.”

Skye leaned forward towards her.

“You and I have to _so_ talk about this bed sharing thing you and Fitz do,” she whispered teasingly. “How have I never heard of this before?”

Jemma blushed.

“Because nothing has ever occurred,” She replied hastily and turned to leave. “Goodnight, Skye.”

She took the stairs before the hacker could say anything else. Jemma might have learned to keep a straight face while being undercover; she might have learned to keep her composure but Skye could still read her thoroughly when she lied.

And she had just openly lied now.

Something _had_ occurred.

Once.

There had been one moment when she and Fitz had crossed the line in their friendship.

  


It was during the summer of their first year at Sci-Ops.

  


Fitz had been in a right state, worried for his mother who was ill at home and couldn't leave because they were needed at the lab. She had stayed by his side as he regularly called home, speaking with his sister until he got the news that his Mum was fine. He had almost cried in relief.

Some of their co-workers and friends from the Sci-Ops facility, after hearing the news, crashed into their shared apartment that night, bringing food and drinks. She and Fitz were the youngest, barely twenty at the time, while the others were all above twenty five and made it their personal mission to make the Scottish engineer drunk.

Fitz had been sloshed beyond belief -the first and only time she had seen him like that- and when everyone left, a kiss and a little more had occurred between them.

She remembered falling on his bed with him, side by side, as she literally carried him in his room, swaying on her way inside as she was, a bit tipsy too. She recalled the look on his face, soft and searching as his fingers reached for her face and caressed her cheek, and her heart thumped loudly.

And then she remembered his lips closing on hers, tongue mapping the inside of her mouth and hands skating over her body.

Her lips and hands hadn't been idle either...

It had taken her weeks to shake off the feeling of him touching her.

She tried to keep the memories from invading her head because that night had literally shifted her feelings towards Fitz in a direction that she was still struggling with.

It didn't help that she was the only one that remembered that night either. Or maybe it did...

She walked through the corridor, admiring the soft lighting coming from old fashioned lamps that gave the wood panels a golden glow. There were small paintings hanging on the wall, mostly of local landscapes.

Halfway to the room, she saw Fitz talking with a girl that, by the looks, had to be working in the hotel.

Tall as Fitz, blonde with clear green eyes and who looked at Fitz with a very appreciative stare. Jemma ignored the twist in her gut and approached them. They both turned and Fitz smiled at her.

“Do we need to ask to be woken up tomorrow?” He asked as soon as she was by his side. “The hotel has some sort of alarm clock service by phone or they send someone to knock on the door.”

“No,” she replied. “Agent Coulson said we're leaving probably at lunch.”

“Thank God...” Jemma smiled at his relief. She noticed the other girl staring at them. Fitz looked at her and spoke in fast German to which the girl replied quickly.

Jemma didn't know a word of German and just watched as the two talked. At some point, the girl's eyes fell on the key Jemma was holding and she blushed. She then animatedly said something to Fitz and pointed to a the last room of the corridor. Fitz's eyes widened but then he nodded and swiftly took the equipment cases by his side. Jemma reached for one but he shook his head at her.

“I'll take them,” he said, smiling slightly. “You open the door.”

“Alright...”

The girl stared at them and then left after bidding them goodnight in German and French.

“What exactly did she say?” Jemma asked as they walked to their room. “I hope I didn't interrupt anything...” Her tone was light and teasing.

Fitz snorted.

“Yeah, sure... ” He drawled. “She said that our room's the best suite in the hotel; probably thought that we're eloping or something.” He glanced at her. “She actually said that we make a wonderful couple.”

Jemma laughed slightly, ignoring the constant flutter in her stomach.

“Well, wouldn't be the first time we've been mistaken for a couple,” She remarked. “Though I do wonder where she got the eloping part. It's not like we're dressed or have any particular luggage.”

“Hell I know...”

She took in the room as he entered and it was quite different from what she had expected.

It was surprisingly spacious and cosy and likewise pleasant.

“Huh,” Fitz remarked, putting the cases down and looked around as he walked in. “This is what I imagined would be the room of a teacher at Hogwarts.”

  


-:-

  


Jemma laughed and he grinned at her.

But then again, he wasn't that wrong...

The room was all wood panels and soft drapes, plush carpets and mellow lights. There was a fireplace in a corner; a fire started and crackling merrily filling the room with warmth and an orange glowing light.

He saw a door on his left that was probably the loo and a small window at the right that was now closed, blinds and curtains drawn.

There was a table just near the door with two chairs. In the middle, the bed that occupied most of the space.

It was a poster bed with heavy drapes over it. Large, very comfortable looking with white pillows and sheets and a thick maroon quilt. It was winter and even though it was gratefully not snowing, it was still very cold in Switzerland.

“Come on, Jemma,” He said, turning to her. “Look at that: it's like a larger version of Harry's bed, drapes and colours and all.”

“What, his bed hit by an Engorgio spell?” she teased and he grinned.

“Sort of...”

She laughed softly again and walked past him, dropping her bag on one of the chairs. He picked up their equipment cases and moved them by the table.

“Shouldn't we send the data now?” She asked, making him look up at her. Jemma had removed her coat and was slowly taking off her scarf. “We could have the lab's analysis system work on it while we're here.”

“I was thinking about that,” He replied, tugging his scarf off and tossing it along with his coat on the other chair. He opened one of the cases and took out his tablet and typed the passcode to remotely access the lab.

He waited for the program to load and glanced at Jemma. She had neatly draped her coat and scarf on her chair and retrieved an hairband from her bag to tie her hair into a loose ponytail.

He watched as her fingers curved to gather her caramel strands and quickly twisted and turned until they were all held together by the small black band. A few wisps rebelliously stayed out and fell on her face.

Fitz looked away as the sudden urge to lean forward and tuck those tendrils behind her ears surged in him. He shouldn't be thinking along that train of thought.

And he shouldn't be observing her like that, with that intensity, all the time.

They were friends. Best friends.

He was her friend. Nothing more.

That was all he was to her.

He should grateful for that. He shouldn't think more of himself and muck up something that meant the world to him.

He looked at her again: she was taking her tablet out of the case.

  


She meant everything to him.

  


He watched as she rubbed her eyes with a hand as she swiftly tapped her logging password to the lab's system.

She looked exhausted.

“Go and take that shower,” he stated, making her look up at him, hazel eyes wide in surprise and confusion.

“What?” She said. “No, I'll go later. First-”

“No, I'll send the data. You go and take a shower.”

“Fitz...”

“Why not? It's not an operation that requires both of us: it's just tedious and long. I'll work on both our tablets and have the data stream going.”

She still looked at him uncertainly.

“You should take my offer... Had it been paperwork, I would have never suggested to work alone.” He smiled as a smile made its way to her face. Her eyes lit up and he ignored the clench in his chest. “Really, Jemma... Go ahead. I'll do the work and you'll finish it later.”

“Alright...” She conceded and put her tablet on the table. She smiled again. “Thanks, Fitz...”

He shrugged good naturedly and smiled back.

He watched as she walked to the loo and closed the door behind her. He felt the smile slide off his face as he sat on the chair, swiftly typing on the tablet.

Friends.

That was all they were and all they would be.

What had he been thinking to get more out of their relationship? Jemma was brilliant, beautiful and charming. When they first met at the Academy, he had been flabbergasted to have her smile and talk to him.

His first thought had been: 'Whatever does she see in me?'

She saw something: something that made her stay by his side. And he had enjoyed her presence, basked in the sunshine that was her smile, laugh and voice.

He had fallen for her early on, already at the Academy but he had been too scared to even try to make a move past their friendship.

It had been at Sci-Ops that he had dared to hope in having his feelings reciprocated.

  
It had been their last year at the Sci-Ops lab in Boston.

  
They didn't know it then -they hadn't been called to join the Team yet- and some of their friends had dragged them off to a New Year’s party. Jemma had somehow gotten herself drunk as hell and he had managed to get her back to their apartment safe.

And things suddenly escalated...

She had literally plastered her body to his, the moment he got the front door locked. He had ignored all the reactions his body was having and got her to her room, hoping to tuck her in and possibly _throw_ himself under an icy shower but she had other plans.

The moment he laid her down, she tugged him by the tie, latched her arms around his neck and connected their lips together.

His brain, not completely addled with alcohol, just short circuited.

  


He raked a hand through his hair and sighed as he recalled that night.

  


She had kissed him senseless and he had allowed it. He had _responded_ to it.

They hadn't slept together: he wouldn't have allowed that when Jemma was drunk but they had touched each other in ways that friends really didn't. Her hands had wandered up and down his body just like his had.

The feeling of her still plagued his dreams sometimes.

When they woke up in the morning, dishevelled but clothed, and in the same bed, he had been distraught to hear that Jemma didn't remember anything of the previous night.

His hope just vanished in thin air... but he kept it to himself, bottling up the disappointment.

  


Because he had been a damn fool.

  


How could he have thought that a drunk kiss would change their relationship?

  


He had buried his hurt and pain deep inside himself and just reacted against it. He had dated other women and stayed as a friend by Jemma's side. She had dated as well.

Some part of him hoped that the feelings would pass, that he would only feel friendship for her and be content with it. He didn't want the yearning for more...

  


He wasn't granted that wish. He was given more heartache.

  


When Jemma was infected by the virus and then jumped from the plane, he realised that his feelings _had_ changed.

He loved her.

At the Academy, it had been a crush. At Sci-Ops, mixed feelings.

Now it was love.

  


And he had hoped again because they had been getting closer.

Almost losing her had made him more protective. He didn't even cast a glance at any woman that wasn't her.

She was more concerned for him. He remembered their talk before his mission to Ossetia, her concerned voice and small touch on his hand before giving him the sandwich.

He had hoped again...

  


But it all crashed down. Again.

First her obvious interest on Mike Peterson... but he had justified it as a mere crush.

But then Agent Triplett appeared.

He couldn't find any excuse for him.

The specialist was clearly interested in Jemma, fawning over her and speaking highly of everything she did.

Bringing her gifts.

Making her smile with flirty jokes.

Asking her out.

The bloke was smart too since he could actually have an intelligent and coherent conversation with Jemma.

  


And Jemma was interested.

  


Last week, Jemma accepted to go out to dinner with him. They were at a SHIELD facility in Delaware and they were bound to be there until morning.

Fitz found out about the date when Jemma was leaving, escorted by a grinning Skye to the cargo ramp. He had been in his room most of the day since they didn't have any project to work on and had come out to look for Jemma, wanting to suggest watching a film together. He walked down the spiral staircase, figuring that she was in the lab but instead found her standing with Skye by the ramp.  Agent Triplett approached the women when Fitz was almost at the bottom step. When he saw the specialist, he froze.

His heart just cracked in two and fell somewhere close to his feet as he saw her smile at the man. And he couldn't help the surge of jealousy and, most of all, envy towards Triplett because he could take her out.

He had that chance while Fitz didn't.

Triplett could ask her to a date and be openly affectionate with her, showing his interest without restraints. He could spoil her with gifts that weren't only meant for holidays but that he could buy just for her.

He could win her affection and love without the restraints of SHIELD's Section 17 that forbid non-platonic relationships between teammates.

  


Fitz couldn't do that.

He was stuck in his status of best friend and couldn't do any of those things without tipping her off about his feelings. Feelings that, at this point, weren't reciprocated or she wouldn't be going out with another man, would she?

He expected the pain that squeezed his heart, expected the feeling of losing something he had longed and yearned for for years.

He didn't expect the resignation. Not so fast.

He had gone back to his bunk, fleeing before Jemma or anyone else could see him and just laid on his bed.

His thoughts had wandered on their own, making him relive moments spent with Jemma, healing and then ripping his heart apart again. Then treacherous thoughts of what Jemma and Triplett could be doing on their date made him clench his hands on his pillow until his knuckles were white.

Jemma was back a few hours later and he was down in the lab, working on an old project to keep his mind busy.

He felt relief in seeing her, even though it was almost eleven at night. He didn't know what he would have done if she had come back in the morning...

She walked inside and stared at him and he looked at her. She was wearing a dress over her leggings and short heeled shoes. His eyes fell on her face with barely any makeup and hair tumbling in soft curls down her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were confused and, he realised, concerned.

She was worried because she cared for him. Jemma loved him only as a friend, but loved him nevertheless.

He had smiled at her, an odd numbness getting to his heart, and asked how her night had been. She looked surprised for a moment and then just nodded.

His smile hadn't faltered.

He could do this. If Jemma was happy, as a friend, he could be happy for her.

  


He loved her too much to make her unhappy.

  


Fitz's eyes focused on the tablets in front of him and he watched the percentage bar coming to the end. All the data they had collected with the DWARFs was almost uploaded to the lab's system and would be processed overnight.

  


He still felt that numbness in him. The pain had ebbed away but the void in his heart had lingered.

He interacted with Jemma as usual: they were still FitzSimmons inside and outside the lab and he realised that he was resigned to the fact that this was all he could have and ask for.

He was resigned to be a friend and partner.

  


Fitz dragged his hands on his face.

  


He had to start accepting this and stop thinking about being more for his sanity.

  


-:-

Jemma towel dried her hair, a small smile on her face as she relished on the warmth still lingering on her body.

The shower had made her feel better: she was still tired and still wanted to lie in bed and sleep but the exhaustion had somehow been washed away.

Having no change of clothes, she had put on her jeans and blouse over her undergarments again. The room was quite warm so she didn't expect to feel cold during the night; especially with the fire and that immense, warm looking quilt.

She ran her fingers through her hair, carefully threading through knots and tangles and then took a brush, smoothing her long strands down. Once she was done, she picked up her sweater, tie, socks and shoes and padded barefoot from the loo.

She was greeted by a pleasant warmth as she opened the door and walked on the carpeted floor and didn’t regret leaving the steam filled room.

She put her shoes on the ground, in a corner and was going to walk towards Fitz and tell him to go and have a shower when she froze on the spot.

He hadn’t heard her come out.

He was sitting on one of the chairs, slouched and with his head tilted back. He had his hands on his face and she couldn’t see anything but a sliver of his jaw. His neck was tense and teeth gritting tight.

Fitz looked as though he was in pain.

 

Something twisted in her chest at his half hidden expression.

  


Seeing him like that was just wrong...

  


“Fitz?”

  


He shot out of his seat in one movement, almost knocking down the table with his knee. He turned to her in surprise, hands now hanging by his sides.

She would have laughed or teased him for being jumpy if it wasn't for his eyes.

Surprise was there but mingled with a hint of something she recognised as pain. Pain for what she didn't know but it flashed through his eyes too often lately.

And there was something else: some emotion that she couldn't identify and that had been lingering in his stare for days.

“Didn't hear you there...” He said, smiling slightly. His face was calm and serene as it had been before she left to shower. His eyes were clear all but for that foreign emotion that she couldn't identify.

She approached him, laid her folded clothes on the chair with her things before looking up at him.

“Something wrong?” He asked, frowning slightly as she stayed silent.

“You tell me,” she replied softly. “You had your hands on your face.”

He stared at her and for a moment, she thought that he would finally tell what was going on with him.

Jemma had noticed that something was off with him in the past weeks.

At first, she thought that it was their new life on the Bus with constant dangerous missions: she thought that the missions were getting a toll on him. He was adjusting to the field work just as she was, although she noticed it was making him turn darker and hardened his attitude.

Ever since Agent Coulson's kidnapping, she assumed that he was tense and moody for the situation and for having their leader taken away right in front of them. She still couldn't shake off his face and words when he said that he didn't care if they killed the Centipede soldiers. It was something so unlike him, so different from the Fitz she knew that it had concerned her deeply.

But that wasn't his problem: she learned that soon. Fitz had gone in multiple field missions (without her) and had gained the Team's respect for his help and attitude. Agent Coulson, May, Skye and Ward had all praised him.

The more serious and seasoned Fitz appeared frequently but the old Fitz still lingered and came back mostly when they were in the lab or when they spent time together.

The thing that worried her was more subtle.

In the last weeks, Fitz seemed to be normal as ever but every now and then, he would space out and that unknown emotion would flit in his eyes.

No one in the Team seemed to see this in him. Jemma was the only one to notice.

“It's nothing, Simmons,” he said with a smile. “Just tired.”

  


He was hurting and he didn't want to talk about it.

He didn't want to tell _her_ about it.

  


Her heart clenched at his response.

“Are you sure?” she asked, pressing on.

“Yeah...” He pulled off his jumper and took off his tie, draping them over his coat. His hair was mussed and flying everywhere, shirt slightly askew as he looked at her and smiled again. “Just tired.”

She nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach because she _knew_ that he was lying though she didn't know why.

“The data has loaded correctly,”he added, quickly tapping on his tablet.

“Alright...” She smiled. “Go ahead and take a shower. We had a long day.”

He stared at her again, a curious look on his face but nodded and moved past her and to the other room.

She sighed softly and picked her tablet, quickly logging off the lab's remote access system and did the same from Fitz's device. She then took her phone and tablet and walked to the bed, sitting on the right side.

She checked for any calls or texts and then put the phone on the bedside table. She heard the sound of the shower and her thoughts flew back to her concern over Fitz.

  


It didn't just bother her that he didn't want to tell her what was hurting him. It _pained_ her.

In all these years of friendship, they had always been each other's confident. Family problems, study or work anxieties and even dating tips were commonly shared topics between them.

She always listened to him, even when he spoke of girls and she felt a twist in the gut but she gave him advice nevertheless.

It had always been like that...

  


What had changed now?

  


They had been growing closer in the last months, their usual synchronization even more seamless at times and their thoughts and actions in perfect coordination. Personal space didn't even exist between them sometimes.

And then something changed. Again.

Whatever was bothering Fitz didn't create any issue in their partnership.

It was deteriorating something in _them_.

  


After the Chitauri virus, she had had trouble keeping her feelings to herself. Fitz helping her during the quarantine and walking into the lab, disregarding an eventual infection made her realise that what she felt for him wasn't just a crush harboured since the Academy.

During Sci-Ops, she had learned that her feelings for him were deep, deeper than she ever thought. Their drunk kiss during their first year there, had made her question her friendship with him.

She didn't have many close friends -Fitz was the closest she had- but even she knew that kissing a friend, responding to a kiss and still thinking about it _and_ the not-so-innocent-touches exchanged during that inebriated moment wasn't normal.

Yearning for more, to be physically closer, wasn't normal between friends either. That's what made her flee from his room once he had fallen asleep and hide in hers where she spent a sleepless night, still feeling his hands on her body and his lips ghosting her lips.

When Fitz had stumbled out of his room, the day after, completely oblivious to whatever had happened after dinner, had made her heart crack a little.

Some part of her had hoped that he would remember so that they could talk and maybe move their relationship to another level.

Another part of her had been relieved. It meant that their current relationship was safe. It meant that she didn't have to face the possibility of Fitz not being interested in her romantically and creating a rift between them. Losing him scared her to death.

The Chitauri incident had been the catalyst to unearth all her carefully hidden feelings.

She was constantly searching his gaze during missions or worrying when he was out in the field.

His mission in Ossetia had forced her to express some of that concern tangibly and it come out in the form of his favourite sandwich, a quick brush of fingers and a forced encouraging smile.

What she had really wanted to do was to hug him, kiss him even, and make him promise to come back to her safe.

  


But she hadn't.

And she hated herself for being such a coward.

  


Biting her lip, Jemma picked the tablet and went through her emails. She was rummaging through old book and magazine subscriptions when a ping on her phone alerted her.

She picked it up and saw a text from Skye.

  


[0:15 – Skye]: I'm sharing with freaking May! She's so quiet that I don't even realise we're in the same room and I jump when I see her in front of me!!

  


Jemma snorted. She could almost imagine the scene of Skye surprised by May's presence. Trying to disperse some of the sadness and gloom shrouding her heart, she quickly texted back.

  


[0:17 – Simmons]: Would you rather have been with Ward then? ;)

  


The answer was quick.

  


[0:17 – Skye]: Don't. Even. Start. Simmons. And you're the one sleeping with Fitz now, aren't you?

  


A blush attacked Jemma's cheeks fast and on its own accord. She really shouldn't have mentioned her crush on Fitz during one of their girls' nights. She had denied that the crush was still there but Skye had scoffed at her. Jemma realised that she truly _was_ terrible at lying.

  


[0:18 – Simmons]: We're just sharing a bed. Nothing more. We're not involved in anything like... that.

  


She couldn't deny the fact that she wanted more. The yearning had been there for years and she had subsided all those needs and feelings for so long...

  


[0:19 – Skye]: Yeah, sure... Tell that to someone else, Simmons. You're so in love with Fitz that it's insane he doesn't see it. And he's so in love with you, it's insane YOU don't see it. And you won't believe me when I say it!

  


Jemma sighed, the feeling of hope rising immediately in her chest at her words squashed by her darker emotions. There had been a moment after the Chitauri accident that had made her believe that he cared more...

  


[0:18 – Simmons]: Skye, stop. We're friends and partners. Nothing more. Please.

  


The jealousy he would show towards other men had given her a sliver of hope. The protective stance he had towards her made her wonder if he shared her feelings.

The little bubble of hope shattered last week.

She had been asked out for dinner by Agent Triplett and while a part of her was rather flattered and pleased by the offer, the other part almost felt guilty for being asked out.

Skye had been there and had scoffed at her when she expressed her doubt of going out with a man who she barely knew. Skye summed it up rather well: she was single, without any relationship or attachment and besides, it was just dinner not a marriage proposal. What harm would it do to accept?

And, the hacker added with a sly grin, it would help to make Fitz jealous and shake him out of his stubborn shell.

Jemma was conflicted. Skye's words weren't thoroughly wrong: she wasn't committed to anyone -even less to Fitz- and going out to dinner with Agent Triplett wasn't establishing a relationship.

And, the specialist was quite handsome and the woman in her was quite proud that he was interested in her.

But a little voice in her head kept saying that if the roles had been reversed and if Fitz had gone out with a woman like she was about to do with Triplett, it would have hurt her deeply.

  


Her pride won over her doubts at the end.

  


She was dressed simply but decent enough for a dinner -Skye had suggested outfits that had her way out of her comfort zone- and was waiting for Agent Triplett to pick her up.

Jemma was almost sure that she caught a glimpse of Fitz by the stairs when the specialist arrived. Years of being around each other in close quarters had made her sensible to his sounds: the squeak of his shoes, the cadence and thread of his footsteps or just his mere presence.

When she turned around, she caught a shadow going upstairs.

Nothing revealed that it was him, it was only a mere shadow, but something inside her told her that it _was_ him.

And he hadn't shown himself. Or spoke to her. Or done anything.

  
He had just left.

  
The twitch of disappointment for his behaviour made her leave with a heavy heart but with the conviction that going out with Agent Triplett wasn't wrong.

Dinner had been nice: Triplett -or Antoine as he had told her repeatedly to call him- had reserved a table at an Italian restaurant where he treated her with a nice dinner and wine.

He had been very pleasant and they talked throughout dinner. He walked her back to the Bus and parted from her with the promise to keep in touch and see each other again.

All in all, it had been a nice date.

But Jemma knew that as nice as Triplett had been, he _wasn't_ who she wanted.

When she walked back into the Bus, she saw the lab lights on and Fitz inside, working. It surprised her because they hadn't been in the lab all day since there hadn't been any imminent work or project to be done. Wondering if something had occurred while she had been away, she walked in, ready to ask Fitz about any sudden mission.

But the look he gave her made every word die in her mouth.

  


It was the first time she ever saw that look. The unknown emotion dancing in his eyes despite his calm face and smile.

Jemma didn't even remember when there was something she didn't know about Fitz. Not knowing something about each other had become foreign, months after their first meeting.

  


The mere fact that she didn't understand him was impossible for her.

  


And then he asked her about her dinner with Triplett and something just broke inside her.

He knew but didn't seem to care about it.

  


It didn't bother him.

  


She had managed to keep her emotions at bay without making him see how his words had hurt her. She nodded and told him that the night had been fine.

  


Jemma ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

  


Nothing had been fine ever since.

  


It was alright if they were with the Team or in the lab: they were just FitzSimmons there.

It was getting hard to be Fitz and Simmons when they were alone. It was hard to behave as friends while her heart ached for something that was one-sided.

  


Suddenly the thought of being alone with him in a hotel room and sharing a bed seemed like a horrible idea...

  


A ping from her phone snapped her out of her reverie.

  


[0:28– Skye]: Ok... Sorry. But talk to him, tell him. You can't keep your feelings to yourself forever. Goodnight. :)

  


Swallowing dryly, Jemma mulled over Skye's words before bidding her a goodnight.

The thought of confessing her feelings had crossed her mind more than once but the fear of ruining their relationship was still too strong.

The fear had increased as the years passed and their relationship grew stronger.

  


She realised that the only things she had ever hidden to Fitz were her feelings and their drunk snog during their first year at Sci-Ops.

  


Nothing else.

  


Almost nine years of knowing each other and the only secrets she kept from him were about her feelings.

She realised that a married couple probably had more secrets than they did... All in all, confused feelings aside, they _did_ seem like a married couple.

  


Jemma sighed again and put her phone away. She had to push away this temptation to change their relationship.

Thinking about it would drive her mad sooner or later and there will come a moment when it would interfere with her interactions with Fitz.

Her only concern now should be to get to know what was bothering him.

  


That's what friends did.

  


She reached for her tablet and opened the Pictures folder. She smiled as she rummaged through the oldest images, the ones that they had taken while they were at the Academy.

She traced a finger over a picture of her and Fitz in the Boiler Room: their first time together there, she remembered, and they were beaming at the camera.

They looked so young...

They were happy to be friends at the time. She was incredibly happy to have found a real friend, one that understood her thoroughly.

Fitz confessed her that he had never had a friend before her.

  


The door clicked and Fitz came out of the loo, freshly showered, barefoot, in jeans and cotton undershirt. He dropped his shoes next to hers and draped his shirt on his chair.

He walked to the left side of the bed after grabbing his phone from the table, checking it before looking at her.

His eyes were clear and calm now as was his face. There wasn't any trace of the emotions she had seen flickering previously. She tried not to notice how his sandy brown curls, still damp with water, went in every direction, shadowing his eyes and face.

Jemma smiled slightly as he sat down on the bed. He looked at her curiously before smiling back.

“Is it alright if I turn off the light?”He asked, turning on the lamp on his bedside table. “With this and the fireplace, we've got plenty.”

“Alright,” she replied, turning on the lamp at her side.

  


-:-

The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the fireplace and the mellow lamplight. Fitz walked back to his side of the bed and glanced at Simmons who was sitting on the quilt, with her back on her pillow and legs stretched in front of her. She was skimming through something on her tablet and looked up as he approached.

Her eyes took a golden tint with this lighting, her entire face glowed in a way that made his heart thump loudly in his chest.

He tried to ignore this and settled on his side of the bed.

It had taken the whole ten minutes in the shower to clear his mind and behave normally. The last thing he wanted was for Jemma to notice something or worry about him.

He hadn't however thought about the fact that they would be sharing a bed and be closer than usual. Or that she could knock the breath out of him in every moment without even trying hard, like she did right now.

  


Why the _hell_ had he suggested to take a room together?

He would have gladly accepted the awkwardness of being with Coulson, Ward, Skye or even _May_ now rather than having to put up a charade with Jemma.

  


She would notice that something was wrong with him... She knew him well.

He had been careless before. He hadn't heard her and she saw him trying to pull himself together.

Fitz leaned against the headboard, fluffing the pillow at his back and glanced at Jemma.

She was still looking at her tablet and seemed quite calm. He was dreading for the moment when she would question him.

Knowing Jemma, she must have seen through his lie easily and she would want answers for that.

They never hid anything to each other. Never lied.

Years of solitude before their meeting had led them to be honest and frank about anything.

  


How could he tell her that he was fine and that everything was alright while he honestly wasn't fine? How could he explain that staying by her side as a friend and nothing more, knowing that she cared for him but didn't love him as he loved her, was slowly destroying him?

  


It would break her. Break _them_ apart.

  


Swallowing dryly, Fitz shut his eyes for a moment, sinking into the pillow and gathered his thoughts.

He had to be strong and keep his façade.

  


For his sake and hers.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This took me forever to write. I should really apologize and explain for all of you waiting to read this.  
> As I mentioned in chapter 1, this story came to my mind after ep. 14 in Season 1 and I really had a lot of angsty feelings for Fitz. I was stuck with the plot line here because I knew exactly where I wanted it to go but I didn't know how to get FitzSimmons there so I waited. And then I faced a bit of a writing block with everything.  
> And it took me all this time. I'm really sorry about that.
> 
> This and the next chapter will include the flashback I mentioned in chapter 1. It helps understand the story and the feelings the I try to describe here.  
> I hope you guys will like it. Hopefully, the last chapter won't take me as much time to write.
> 
> Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 who helped me edit this..
> 
> Here we go... :)

* * *

 

**juxtaposition, n**

_It scares me how hard it is to remember life before you. I can't even make the comparisons anymore, because my memories of that time have all the depth of a photograph. It seems foolish to play games of **better** and **worse**. It's simply a matter of **is** and **is no longer**._

  


_ -The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan-  _

 

* * *

 

_-Sci-Ops, Boston. November 2006-_

 

When the phone rang, they were bickering in their lab, trying to find a common agreement on their newly assigned project. They had to create a tracking device that would help a field operative team and their S.O had told them that if they got this done quickly, they would be promoted to Level 2.

And being a Level 2 Agent at 19 years old was a very big deal.

They were trying to come up with a solution for the tracking devices, arguing about the power of the analysis sensors that the 'Hound' -as Jemma called the device- should have to track down biological traces.

When his phone rang, Fitz stopped halfway in his retort to her last statement that the device's sensibility sensors weren't calibrated precisely and huffed, picking it up. Jemma huffed and went back to look at her microscope: the odourless scent she had fabricated was almost ready for testing.

If only her moronic partner decided to give in to her advice and re-calibrate the-

 

“ _What?”_

 

Jemma turned abruptly and looked at Fitz as he shouted.

All annoyance left her as she saw his face: he had literally turned white with his blue eyes wide. One hand was clutching the phone, straining to listen while the other was gripping the edge of his workbench.

“When?” Fitz asked, voice suddenly low and shaky. Jemma removed her goggles and gloves and approached him, concern clear on her face.

 

Something was clearly wrong...

 

“I'll try-I'll see what I can do,” Fitz said slowly as she stood next to him. He was pale and his eyes were filled with worry. Jemma felt the same feeling multiply tenfold inside her.

“Yes, thank you. I'll call as soon as I can.”

Fitz ended the call and dropped the phone on the workbench. He ran both his hands through his hair and if it wasn't for his distraught face, Jemma would have teased him for the messy wreck that his curls had become.

“Fitz?” She ventured slowly. “What happened?”

He stared at her, eyes a liquid blue that made her heart clench painfully in her chest. He blew out a shuddering breath before opening his mouth to speak.

“My Mum,” he said slowly. “She's been taken to the hospital this morning: her friend found her passed out on the kitchen floor.

Jemma's eyes flew wide open and her hand automatically reached for his shoulder, fingers squeezing him softly in support.

Fitz smiled bracingly.

“The doctors aren't still sure of what she has but...” Fitz ran a hand through his hair again. “I've got to go back home and be by her side. Mrs. Hayton cannot stay there all the time.”

Jemma nodded, biting her lip. She knew that Fitz didn't have any family besides his mother.

She didn't want to imagine what he was thinking right now. What scenarios were going through his head as she was ill in the UK so far away from him...?

“Go and talk to Agent Avery,” she said, gently removing his goggles from his head. “He'll be in his office now.”

He looked at her for a moment, face etched with concern and eyes filled with emotions. Her heart tugged in her chest.

“Of course, I'll come with you, Fitz,” she said firmly. “Come on...” She tugged his wrist, fingers slipping around the soft skin that wasn't covered by his shirt and lab coat.

He nodded slowly and a ghost of a smile made its way on his face. She smiled back, hoping to be reassuring.

She didn't want to see him so sad and unhappy.

If SHIELD allowed it, she'd go with him to Scotland just to help him.

 

-

 

SHIELD didn't allow it.

Fitz couldn't leave Sci-Ops now. Not when they were working on a project that was required to help a team in a Level 6 mission.

Jemma had protested, had tried to plead their S.O to grant Fitz the possibility to leave: she said that she'd work double time on her own to get the project done.

But when Agent Avery didn't budge despite Fitz's pleas that he didn't even know if his mother would survive, Jemma knew that there wasn't anything they could do. Agent Avery must have orders coming from HQ and there was little to nothing that they could do to change their minds.

“I'm sorry, FitzSimmons,” their S.O said. Jemma noticed that he had a chagrined look and nodded, following Fitz out of the door.

They walked to their lab in silence, lab coats swishing softly and an odd tinkering noise coming from Fitz's pockets: he had the habit of stashing bits and pieces in his lab coat while working.

They were almost at the lab when Fitz took out his phone and called home. She gave him some privacy getting to her working station but she nevertheless heard his murmur of apologies for not being able to be there and thanking his mother's friend for what she was doing.

Jemma scoured her mind for ideas, for anything that could help him. When he put his phone away, she approached him.

“If we finish the device, you can leave,” she told him, making him look up from his slouched position on his chair. His eyes were empty and it scared her to see him like this.

She was used to seeing Fitz in many ways: happy, teasing, grumpy, sleepy, sometimes angry but never so... defeated.

“Fitz,” She put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing softly as she crouched down in front of him. “Hey, everything be will be fine. Your mum's strong.”

He looked at her with an empty stare that made something twist in her chest. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, fingers drawing circles on his arms.

“Everything will be fine,” she said again, forcing her voice to be more reassuring.

There had to be a way to solve this: she didn't want to see him like this.

Jemma wanted to do anything that she could to put Fitz's mind and heart at ease.

Fitz looked at her and managed a little quirk of his lips.

“Let's try to finish our work,” he said softly. “It's worth a try to see if they'll let me go once we're done.”

Nodding as she stood up, Jemma smiled at him slightly and walked over to her workbench, mind fully focused on getting their 'Hounds' ready as soon as possible.

 

She would help him in every possible way.

 

-:-

 

The days that followed the phone call were nerve-wracking for FitzSimmons.

They barely left the facility, preferring to take small naps on the small sofa on the back of their lab where they usually lounged while taking a break or even fall asleep on their desks.

They managed to finish the Hounds in a day but Jemma's initial hope that Fitz could be free to leave once the mission's task was completed was shot down.

They were both asked ( _forced)_ to stay there for any sudden mission that could require their intervention.

It's standard procedure but that didn't mean that Jemma agreed with it. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at SHIELD whenever she saw Fitz's concern.

His mum had a form of lung infection: the doctors didn't know how severe it was yet. They kept taking blood samples and doing tests and gave her medication to lower her high fever. She was still unconscious.

Fitz was barely sleeping: dark rings marred his eyes and he was paler than ever. He picked his food and managed to eat a small portion only after her constant coaxing. The last thing she wanted was for him to fall ill...

He checked his phone every half an hour and called home whenever he could: his mother's friend had accepted to stay by her side in the hospital, taking his place.

Their colleagues had learned about Fitz's mum and had been very supportive, helping them out whenever they could. Their lab was close to another few labs and some analysis offices and the two of them were well known on their floor.

Being the youngest agents in the facility did give them some notoriety and spurred some 'older sibling' feeling from the other agents.

Three days after the phone call that shattered Fitz's mind, he received another one.

They were in the lab, finishing a report in silence -something that had occurred quite frequently in the last few days since Fitz wasn't very talkative- when the ringtone rang out.

Jemma had noticed that the he rarely got calls and that it was always him calling home to get news.

But now...

She turned to look at Fitz and he stared at his phone, blanching. Heart beating loudly and feeling something churn in her stomach, she was immediately by his side as he picked the phone.

Her hand rested on his shoulder in silent support and he looked at her with eyes filled with fear and hands trembling as he answered.

“Hello?” He said softly and listened. Jemma's fingers curled around his shoulder, unconsciously, as she saw the emotions flicker through his eyes and she stepped closer when his eyes took a glassy sheen.

She thought of Mrs Lena Fitz and the one and only time they had met, during their graduation ceremony at the Academy. The woman had Fitz's same sandy hair and kind blue eyes and had looked so proud that day. Fitz had blushed at her praises and had whispered something in his mother's ear when she hugged him that left the woman on the verge of tears. When Mrs. Fitz hugged Jemma, she had thanked her for being her son's friend and for being there for him.

Jemma had blushed and spluttered that he was her best friend and, of course, she's be there for him but the older woman had looked her oddly, smiling and leaving the biochemist to wonder about the smile.

Jemma didn't want to imagine what would happen to Fitz if his mother-

“Really?” Fitz choked out a laugh and all fears dispersed from her heart. He looked at her with eyes full of tears but with a smile on his face. He reached for her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly: something inside Jemma's chest fluttered.

“A-alright,” he said thickly. “Thank you... Thank you so much Mrs. Hayton.” And he closed the call.

“Is she-?” Jemma asked and he nodded.

“She's okay: she woke up and is reacting well to the medications.” Fitz brought both hands up to scrub his face. “She's _okay_...”

Jemma moved automatically as soon as she heard the teary and relieved quality of his tone and put both her hands on his shoulders, squeezing tightly.

“That's wonderful, Fitz!” She exclaimed happily. He moved his hands away and stared at her for a moment before moving forward and hugging her.

Jemma gasped softly, completely taken back by his gesture and felt a blush attack her face. Fitz had never been tactile or prone to hugs with her; he wasn't particularly tactile with anyone, really...

“Mum's okay,” he whispered into her hair and Jemma felt her heart clench at his tone. She wrapped her arms around him and felt his body relax for the first time in days.

“You should go and rest,” she said softly. “You've barely slept these days. I can finish our report and-”

“You're as knackered as I am,” he cut in and moved back so that he could look at her. His eyes bore into hers in a way that made her feel as though she was made of glass. “We'll go home together: we can finish the report tomorrow.”

Jemma looked at him, taking a step back to clear her suddenly fuzzy mind and realised that it wasn't a bad idea: they'd been working endlessly for days.

“Let's just inform Agent Avery and then go home,” she suggested, shedding her lab coat. “You can also talk to him into-”

“-getting a few days to go home to Scotland, yeah...” He completed and smiled slightly. It was the first smile in days and Jemma didn't realise how much she had missed seeing it.

Agent Avery granted them the rest of the day off -he looked glad and somewhat guilty for having kept Fitz in Boston even though it wasn't his fault- and so they went back to their apartment.

It was almost seven and already dark since it was November when they got inside their house and Jemma shivered slightly and hurried to check the thermometer. Three days of barely being there seemed to have turned the apartment into a fridge.

Shortly after, she shed off her coat and put it away while Fitz dropped his on the couch and promptly took out his phone. He had told her that his mother’s friend had stayed at hospital at night sometimes and that she was going to be there that night. Jemma gave him a little smile as she walked into the kitchen, seeing what they had to make a quick dinner.

She heard Fitz talking as she rummaged through the pantry and was glad to hear the relief in his voice and his mother's friend gave him good news.

“Tell her I'll call tomorrow,” he said. “When she'll be up to talk a bit.”

Jemma peeked into the living room and saw the soft smile on his face as he put the phone away. Something fluttered in her chest as she took in his features and she had to shake her head to get rid of the thoughts suddenly clouding her mind.

Every now and then, she'd feel like this while looking at Fitz. It crept on her stealthily, when her guard was down and when she allowed her stare and thoughts to linger on the blue-eyed engineer. She vaguely recognised the feelings but...

 

It was _ridiculous:_ he was her _best friend. S_ he was only very, very close to him. She cared for him.

 

Her emotions were jumbled because of the situation and because she was seeing him so vulnerable.

That was all.

 

_Right?_

 

Fitz walked into the kitchen, ruffling his hair and looking exhausted.

“Sandwiches?” She asked and he nodded.

“And then sleep,” he remarked, stifling a yawn and she smiled.

They had barely started to prepare their quick meal when there was a knock on the door and they looked at each other in confusion.

“Were you-?” He queried.

“-expecting someone?” She completed, arching a brow. “No. Did you-?” He shook his head. “Then who-?”

“Hell if I know...”

Fitz went to the door and slowly opened it.

“Hey, FitzSimmons!”

Jemma was right behind him and her eyes flew open as she saw most of their co-workers standing there, holding bags of what looked like food and drinks. They were all beaming at them.

“Er-He- Hi,” Fitz stumbled in his words, clearly bewildered as she was as he fully opened the door and people started streaming into their apartment. “What's going on?”

“Agent Avery told us that your mom is better now,” James Carver, one of the engineers that worked on their floor, said with a grin. “We thought that the good news needed a celebration.”

“And...we really want to bust the myth that you Brits have high alcohol tolerance,” Amy Knight, a fellow biologist piped in, holding up a bag.

“Aren't we under-age here?” Jemma asked, smiling nevertheless. She felt a little warm spark of affection towards her coworkers. They had all been incredibly supportive towards her and Fitz these last few days.

“Oh well...” The ten or so twenty-five years old in the room all looked at each other until Amy talked again.

“We'll make sure that you kids don't do anything hazardous or dangerous,” she said with a grin. “Come on, you two are not getting away with it.”

“We also got Chinese,” It was a flurry of movement with people going around their living room and kitchen, asking where was what.

FitzSimmons stayed by the closed door, taking in the chaos of their usually quiet apartment and looked at each other.

“So much for a quick dinner and then going to sleep...” Fitz remarked with quirked lips.

“Oh come on, Fitz,” she chided, nudging his shoulder. “It could be fun! And we both need to loosen up a bit. Especially you.”

“So, you're going to allow them to get me drunk?” He shot her a bemused look. “That's rude...”

“I know you: there's no way they'd get you sloshed unless you drink everything they brought. Besides-,” she grinned. “A drunk you would be fun to see.”

“That's _really_ rude, Simmons,” he retorted with a mock-glare. Jemma laughed.

“Come on, let's help them before they tear our house down.”

He smiled at her and she felt another flutter in her stomach. She ignored it and approached her coworkers with him, ready to have dinner and enjoy the night.

 

-

 

Jemma groaned slightly as she shut the front door after saying goodbye to the last of her Sci-Ops friends and turned around.

It was almost midnight and she was dead on her feet. The house was in a state of disarray that made her almost desperately want to believe in magic so that she could clean up with a flick of her hand.

And she was also slightly tipsy so cleaning, tidying up or even moving was _not_ an option.

Sleep: that's what she needed.

A groan and mumbled curse across the room made her look up and Jemma realised that Fitz hadn't moved from his position on the couch, place where he'd been for past half and hour after drinking the nth shot of scotch. His dazed and sleepy state had convinced the others to leave and Jemma wondered if she shouldn't worry over her friend.

“Fitz?” She approached him slowly, aware that the world was spinning slightly around her. “How are you doing?”

He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and peeked at her from the arm draped over his eyes. She almost smiled at the little pout he was sporting.

Jemma would never admit it loud but Fitz looked pretty adorable right now with his messy curls and half-closed blue eyes.

She plopped next to him on the couch and they both winced at the sudden movement.

“Why did we even let them come in?” Fitz mumbled, squinting under the dim lights of their living room and shielding his eyes with his hand.

“ _You_ did that,” she whispered, burying her face against his shoulder with closed eyes. He was warm as always and she was enveloped by his scent: a mixture of solder, mint and the woodsy hint of his cologne.

Jemma didn't understand why but she felt more light-headed now.

“ _You_ surprised them by outdrinking James,” he retorted, shifting slightly to look at her.

“Yes and _you_ started boasting about your drinking tolerance and that led to us having shots with _all_ of them,” She peeled her eyes open and gently headbutted his arm. “So, your fault.”

Fitz huffed.

“I ended up drinking more than you though...” He nudged her slightly and she winced for the movement. “I won!”

“Prat,” she mumbled, laughing softly at his gleeful tone. Jemma recalled how different he was a few hours ago, before he got the call from home that his mother was fine.

Seeing him smile and laugh during the night had been wonderful. Jemma had felt the sudden urge to hold him in her arms, to show him how happy she was to see him like this.

 _It's just the alcohol_ , she thought, sitting up slightly. Otherwise, why would she want to be so... tactile with Fitz? A voice in the back of her head was murmuring another reason but she shoved it away.

“You should go to sleep,” she said, moving away from him and feeling colder.”It's been a long day...”

“I'm not sure if I can even get to my room,” he replied drowsily. “I'll stay here.”

“No way,” Jemma got to her feet, swaying slightly. “I know you: you'll sleep badly, cramped on the couch and you'll be a nightmare tomorrow. I don't want to spend an entire, work-less Sunday with a grumpy you.” She held out her hand. “Come on.”

He looked at her, eyes half-closed and a little frown on his face. Sighing dramatically, he reached for her hand and allowed her to pull him up.

They both didn't think about their obvious unsteadiness. Jemma swayed again as she pulled Fitz to his feet but he was completely off balance; she managed to stop him from toppling down onto the couch by grabbing his arm and putting it over her shoulder.

“Woah- Fitz,” she said, swaying again under his weight and her own tipsiness. “You have to help me get you to your room. You're a lot heavier than I expected.”

“That's because you're ridiculously small and slight,” he remarked, hand gripping her shoulder in an attempt to keep his balance.

Jemma snorted as they made their way to his room.

“Says the _giant_...”

“Well, you're shorter and slighter than me.”

“I'm a girl, in case you haven't noticed and it's-”

“I've noticed.”

Something in his tone made her look up at him and she felt a rush of warmth at the soft look he gave her.

“O-oh.. G-good,” She stumbled in her words and on her feet but managed to keep both of them upright. Jemma manoeuvred them through his room's door and made her way to his bed, slowly overcoming the obstacles littered on the floor.

“You're a mess,” she stated, walking past his chair, almost covered in clothes. “How are you so organised in the lab while you're such a slob in your room is beyond me.”

“I'm not a slob,” he protested. “I just had other thoughts on my mind these days...”

Mortified, Jemma was almost going to apologize, somehow having forgotten that he'd had three really rough days when Fitz moved to sit on his bed but didn't think of leaving her shoulder.

The next thing she knew was that they'd both toppled on his bed: Jemma on her side, Fitz face front on the mattress.

They both groaned softly and slowly shifted so that they were on their back. When they looked at each other, they promptly burst out laughing loudly.

“Thankfully this happened with everyone gone,” Jemma remarked, through giggles, feeling even more light-headed. “Can you imagine if someone else had seen that?”

“We'd have suffered some hell of teasing for... days,” Fitz commented, laughing. “We actually managed to surprise them all tonight. They weren't expecting us to outdrink all of them.”

“Well, they do know that we're geniuses -or we wouldn't be here in Sci-Ops- but they do see us as two barely twenty years old agents.”

“They think we're kids.”

“We aren't.”

“Clearly not.”

They spent a few moments in silence lying side by side, shoulders brushing against each other and breaths softly sounding in the cool air.

“We should be used to it though...” Jemma remarked, looking at him. “Being child-geniuses and all...”

“I sort of expected people to get used to me-us after a while,” Fitz mused and sighed softly. “Oh well, I suppose things will change... at some point.”

“Probably,” she replied with a smile. “Or we'll just keep surprising everyone.”

“FitzSimmons being FitzSimmons?” He turned to look at her, a soft smile grazing his lips and making her heart do a funny flip in her chest.

“Yeah... As always.”

Despite knowing each other for a little more than two years and being friends ever since, she wouldn't want to be anything else.

Jemma honestly didn't know what to do without having Fitz by her side...

“Simmons?”

“Hmm?” She turned to him again, drawn out of her musing. He was staring at her.

“Thank you.”

She blinked.

“For what? I told you that I'd rather drag you here than leave you on the couc-”

“You had to deal with me,” he explained, almost amused by her answer. “And I wasn't... helpful in any way. But you didn't leave me on my own: you kept helping me and pushed me to see the best.” He smiled and Jemma had to forcibly ignore the maddening thumping of her heart. They were awfully close right now and something about being in his room, alone emphasized everything.

“O-of course I'd do that!” She managed to reply. “As you said: we're FitzSimmons. I'm not allowing you to deal with anything on your own.”

She didn't realise just how true her statement was. If they had had permission to leave, she'd have probably left with Fitz to Scotland just to be by his side.

A voice in her head kept whispering that friends didn't do that, even the best ones but she ignored it yet again.

She and Fitz were different.

Fitz rolled on to his side to face her with his elbow up and head resting on his hand. He looked at her oddly and she felt a blush creep up her face.

What was _wrong_ with her? Was the alcohol affecting her that much?

“What?” She squeaked out, cursing her befuddled head.

“I was just thinking...” His blue eyes shone brightly in the dim light coming through his curtained window, making Jemma flush more under his soft scrutiny.

The fuzziness in her brain was making her think (too much) about the unknown and warm emotion that would stir in her regarding Fitz and she knew that he was quite sloshed too because he was rarely so talkative about his inner thoughts and feelings.

A little warning alarm rang through her head. They were both inebriated and more tired than they could estimate and Jemma wondered if this gentle and yet electrified air between them wasn't going to wreak havoc in their friendship.

“About what?” She asked, sitting up. It was better than lying on bed together...even though nothing would have happened. Obviously.

She wondered why she was justifying her own actions to herself: she was really sloshed.

Fitz sat up too, his shoulder brushing against hers again, while his hands lied flat on the mattress.

“When I was younger, I thought a lot of what would happen if my mum died,” he said slowly and she turned to him sharply, eyes widening. He shrugged and smiled slightly. “I mean... it has always been just the two of us and... I wondered about it. I imagined that at some point, I'd be alone and the thought terrified me.”

“Fitz...” Jemma didn't know what to say. She had grown with two loving parents and had a handful of doting aunts, uncles and grandparents. Fitz only had his mother. She couldn't even imagine what he must have thought as a child and even now that she was ill. She moved forward and touched his arm with her hand, squeezing it slightly in comfort.

“Hey, it's alright...” He said, moving his hand over hers, his rougher fingertips brushing delicately over her skin. She tried not to notice the little tingle that went up her arm at the contact. “Mum talked to me about it too; right before I left to come here to America. She knew that I was smart and that I could live on my own and find a job but she was worried that I wouldn't be able to take care of myself. She was concerned over me being a loner.” His palm curved around her hand, warm and reassuring and Jemma didn't realise that she had moved closer, their sides now meshed together. “But then... You came along.” Fitz looked at her again and shifted to a side, moving his free hand to brush her cheek.

He had moved so fast and smoothly and so unlike-Fitz that Jemma barely had time to be surprised and just stared at him. Something in his look made her heart jump in her chest.

“F-Fitz?” She stammered, entirely unsure of what to say or do. He was extremely close: she could feel the heat radiating off him. His finger glided over her cheek, making her flush deeper.

What was he doing to her?

The scientist in her could come up with a definition to all the biological reactions her body was going through but her heart and mind were somewhat stunned.

There was a part of her that wanted to move forward and glide her fingers through Fitz's hair and face; move closer to feel him and touch him. There was another part that was telling her to stand and leave immediately, screaming that this was her best friend.

“Not alone anymore...” He whispered and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Jemma was sure that she had stopped breathing: he was so close...

He was just drunk and affectionate. She tried to find a rational reason to explain why her best friend was literally a breath away from her.

But she knew that there was something else... There had _always_ been something else between them.

“I don't know what I'd do without you now...” His whispered confession sent a jolt through her heart and Jemma swallowed dryly. Against her better judgement, she moved her hand up to cup his jaw.

“I wouldn't know either...” She replied softly and he stared at her, fingers stilling on her face.

And then he closed the distance between them and kissed her.

Jemma froze, caught off-guard and her fuzzy brain needed a few moments to catch up.

 

Fitz was kissing her.

Her best friend was kissing her.

 

And she didn't want him to stop despite all the reasons that should make her want the opposite.

 

Fitz moved back and she felt his breath ghost her lips as he looked at her; she didn't know what he saw in her eyes but it made him smile tenderly and that made her surge forward to kiss him.

His fingers moved to the back of her neck while his other hand came up to cup her face while both of her hands went around his neck and jaw. When his tongue skimmed her lower lip, she gasped softly and he deepened the kiss, moving even closer to her and overwhelming her senses.

Jemma didn't know how it happened but shortly after she was lying on her back with Fitz over her, still kissing her deeply. All restraints had left her mind and she just kissed him back, entwining her fingers into his curls and liking the little sounds he made when she nipped his lower lip.

His hands moved down, skating on her sides past her ribs and stopped at her hips. She felt his thumbs draw little circles near her navel while his other fingers spread wide on her tummy.

How hadn't she ever noticed that his hands were so large and warm? How didn't she know that his kisses were so careful and addictive?

Her hands moved down on their own accord, feeling his body through his shirt: he had broad shoulders and a rather nice, firm chest. Fitz wasn't built like a specialist but he seemed to have a nice body. Jemma was willing to learn more of him, hands gliding to his stomach when he broke their kiss with a haggard breath that mirrored her own.

She could see that his eyes had darkened and that sent another pleasant jolt through her body; she licked her lips, waiting for Fitz's next move. He leaned down to kiss her again with the same intensity of the previous kisses while his hands started moving up, brushing her breasts over her shirt.

Jemma mewled, the sudden contact making warmth spread throughout her body and Fitz took advantage of the moment to move from her lips to her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

“ _Fitz..._ ” She gasped when he found a particular sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her hands moved to his shoulders, short nails gripping his shirt.

“ _Jemma..._ ” He whispered hoarsely. That tone deleted whatever residual thought from Jemma's mind, leaving her completely oblivious to anything but Fitz and making her move until his mouth was on hers again.

She didn't know how long they stayed there kissing on his bed but at some point, their movements were lagged by tiredness and their alcohol-induced state.

Their kisses slowed and their frenzied groping stopped until they were doing nothing but staring at each other, foreheads touching. Fitz's breath was evening out and his eyes looked heavy.

Jemma slowly moved a hand to caress his cheek.

“Sleep, yeah?” She whispered and he nodded, pressing one last kiss to her lips, before moving off her and shifting to his side. Jemma barely had time to sit up and gather her wits before he was out like a light.

Jemma stared at the sleeping engineer and everything, suddenly, just dawned on her.

 

She had just spent an indefinite amount of time snogging her best friend.

 

Something cold coiled in her stomach as she thought of every possible consequence. What would happen to their friendship? Their partnership?

Would SHIELD even allow them to be partners if they-? Jemma blinked as her thoughts took a completely new route in her head and she reached for her neck with her hands.

If they _what_? They had just kissed after getting tipsy. For all she knew, Fitz just kissed her out of...gratitude?

While she had responded to everything he did: she could have stopped him but she didn't. She wasn't even drunk as he was.

She liked it: she liked kissing him, touching him and feeling so close to him. She liked being close to _Fitz_.

 

_Dear God, she was in a bloody mess..._

 

Fitz stirred slightly in his sleep and that promptly made her stand, panic lacing her veins; if he woke up and looked at her now, she didn't know what she would do.

If he reached for her now, she knew that she wouldn't stop him.

She had to leave.

Jemma bolted out of the room and walked into hers, closing the door behind her. She didn't bother to change her clothes and just took off her shoes and jumper before collapsing in bed, hoping that a good night's sleep would clear her fuzzy mind.

But sleep was foreign to her.

She still felt Fitz's lips on hers, the taste of him lingering on her tongue; her body still buzzed from his touch and she still had his scent on her. Her heart was yearning for something... for him.

Jemma sighed loudly, burying her face into her pillow and preparing herself for a long sleepless night.

 

-

When Fitz walked out of his room, Jemma was in the kitchen, washing the dishes from the previous night. She had barely slept and her thoughts were jumbled as were her emotions.

She had managed to subside her fears and decided to react only after seeing what Fitz would say. If he came out apologizing or saying that it was a mistake, she'd just follow his lead and swallow all her doubts about them.

But if he stated that it wasn't a mistake? If he said-? Jemma blushed slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face with her arm.

If they both were fighting off feelings for each other, they'd have to talk about it and figure them out. And then, they'd have to decide what to do.

It could mean a change in everything. Their relationship, the work partnership... _Everything_.

 

“Simmons?”

  
Jemma turned around and found herself staring at a rumpled and bleary-eyed Fitz. She ignored the flutter in her chest and managed a little smile.

“Good morning, Fitz,” she said cheerfully. “How are you?”

“My head's killing me,” he mumbled, sitting at the table.

“Here,” she put a tall glass of water in front of him along with a few pills of ibuprofen. “This will help the headache.”

“You're a life saver,” he shot her a grateful smile and she smiled slightly before turning around. Her heart thought that it should start jumping in her ribcage and she frantically tried to calm down.

Fitz looked around the kitchen and at the living room.

“Bloody hell... The house is a mess,” he stated taking the disarray. “And I don't remember anything after the last round of shots.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I'll help you as soon as I feel a bit more huma- What?”

Jemma stared at him. He looked at her with wide eyes.

“What's wrong?” He asked, standing up. “Are you alright?”

 

_He didn't remember anything._

 

“N-no,” she replied shakily, turning around to close the tap and wipe her hands. And this gave her time to school her features from shock and disbelief to something more neutral. “I'm just knackered and still slightly hangover...”

“You and me both,” Fitz remarked and took the pills. He approached her with the glass and looked at her intently. “Are you sure you're alright? You look... ill.”

“I'm fine, Fitz,” she smiled at him and hoped that he wouldn't see through her lie. “Just tired.”

“Okay...”

He walked to the pantry to get something for breakfast and she busied herself making tea.

He didn't remember. That was good, right? They didn't have to worry about anything. They'd just slip back to their easy relationship.

Fitz walked past her and brushed her shoulder and a shiver ran down her spine. Jemma steeled herself.

She had to keep her emotions in check.

  


A few days later, Fitz was granted permission to leave for Scotland and see his mother. Jemma didn't insist on going with him and he probably thought that she was being tactful and wanted to give him time alone with his mum.

For the first time since they were friends, Jemma was glad to be apart from Fitz.

She needed some days to calm down and rearrange her thoughts. She had to pull herself together and understand her emotions.

She felt something for Fitz, yes... but it was just a crush. They were together all the time and lived together and she supposed that it was normal that she would start feeling something towards him.

It was just a little crush: it would pass soon.

  


Right?

 

* * *

 

Fitz looked up from his phone, after checking his email account and glanced at his partner. Jemma had been silent and seemed to be focused with something on her tablet. From what he could see, she was looking at some pictures.

He felt a little wave of tension lace his veins. He was sure that she would ask him what was wrong and her silence -so unnatural in this circumstance- was unsettling him.

He spied her again, carefully taking in the way some loose tendrils of hair framed her face and how the lamplight made her features glow. She was...alluring.

 

He shouldn't be watching her this way...

Best friends didn't look at each other like that.

 

Fitz put his phone on the bedside table, sighing softly and wondering what he was going to do with himself. Being alone with Jemma was getting more and more complicated.

In the lab or with the Team, he could keep his interactions with her as professional as he could without problem but when they were alone...

He was torn between yearning for more and shutting down his feelings in some corner of his heart. It was tearing him up inside and, he was sure, Jemma would notice that something was wrong.

She might have already...

 

“Do you remember this?”

 

Fitz turned abruptly as she spoke. Jemma was looking at him, eyes oddly calm and lacking the hint of concern he'd seen before.

“What?” He asked in confusion.

“Do you remember-” She moved the tablet so that he could see the screen. “- _this_?”

It was a picture of them, taken years ago.

“Yeah...” He said. “The party in the Boiler Room after our graduation ceremony.” He smiled slightly, recalling the night and their celebration. “Can't believe it was eight years ago.”

“Yeah...” She commented, looking at the picture with an almost wistful smile. Fitz couldn't read her expression as she skimmed through the pictures.

He caught glimpses of them during their Academy year and his lips quirked as he saw moments of the start of their friendship. Everything was easier back then; at the time, he was happy just to _talk_ to Jemma. His feelings were confused even then but he managed to put them aside most of the time.

Not like now where he wanted so much more and was struggling to keep his emotions to himself.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Fitz looked at Jemma.

“Why are you looking at these now?” He asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. “Feeling nostalgic?” He added, teasingly.

“Actually, yes,” she admitted, looking up at him. Her eyes held a soft look that made his heart clench. “I was wondering about us now, trying to find the Clairvoyant while going on missions with our team and-” She smiled at him. “Would you have imagined that you'd be doing this back then? That you'd be in a field team, travelling the world?”

The honest answer was: absolutely _no_. He'd have laughed in anyone's face, claiming that they were daft.

“No...” He admitted. “When I got into the Academy, I imagined that I'd end up in some lab, working on devices and gadgets that no one else would ever build.”

His smile faltered when he saw the look on her face: she looked guarded and guilty. His mind recalled the memories of the argument they had had, separated by the lab's glass door when she was infected by the Chitauri virus.

“Yeah, but I'm alright with what I'm doing now,” he immediately added. “I mean... I got to see some alien tech. I actually got to _see_ an alien -even though he was an old coot-” _Who was hitting on Jemma_. “-and-”

“You still don't like the field.”

“I don't like the dangers field work can bring,” he explained, turning to her. Jemma stared at him with unwavering eyes that were still clouded with guilt. “But.. I'm getting better at it.” As long as she was safe, he was alright...

Jemma smiled at him, genuinely, and Fitz felt something constrict in his chest. He had to find a way to stop these reactions somehow...

“Yeah, you are...” She said softly and he saw something fleetingly pass in her eyes; some emotion that he couldn't identify. She skimmed through a few pictures, seemingly lost in thought, when she looked up smiling wryly. “Well, you got used to me despite hating me at the beginning, so...”

Fitz blinked.

“ _What?_ ” He asked, sitting up straighter. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Fitz,” She rolled her eyes at him. “No need to hide it: it was quite obvious really... I know that you hated me at the Academy and if it wasn't for that shared lab-”

“I didn't hate you!”

“Yes, you did. You barely talked to me. You barely _looked_ at me.”

Fitz stared at her.

Was this what she had thought for all these years? That his initial inability to talk to her was hatred?

The mere thought was laughable.

He had noticed her immediately. From the moment he had started at the Academy, he had learned the name of Jemma Simmons ; he had learned that she was British and seventeen years old just like him. He had soon learned that she was a genius just like he him.

And when he caught a glimpse of her, he also learned that she was exceptionally pretty.

And _that_ along with his uncertainty and many other factors stopped him from befriending her immediately. Fitz had always known that they'd get along well: they were similar in so many ways that he was sure about it.

But the lack of friends in his life had made him incredibly aware of approaching her. He didn't want to mess up...

Even now... he didn't know what to do because he didn't want to mess up their relationship.

 

Some things never changed.

 

“I didn't hate you, Jemma,” he repeated . “I wanted to be your friend...I knew that we'd get along. So... I spent time trying to find something smart to tell you, to break the ice and talk...”

Jemma stared at him.

“That's why you didn't talk to me?” She asked after a few moments of silence. “You didn't... You didn't know how... to talk to me?”

“Yeah...” He scratched the back of his neck, trying not to blush and taking in her astonished look. Her eyes then took an uncertain hint that made him quirk his brow. “What?”

“Is-Is it happening again?”

“What?”

“You're behaving like you did back then... Not all the time but... when it's just... us,” Jemma put the tablet away and fully turned to him. Her eyes held a cautious, uncertain look that made Fitz' heart thud in his chest.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, feigning to not understand. He couldn't talk to her about his struggling emotions right now: it would all lead to a bad end.

“Don't play dumb with me, Fitz,” Jemma remarked. “Something is... off with you. I've noticed it for weeks and- You're different and... you're like that only with me.”

“What are you-?”

“Are you having.... trouble talking to me? Is there something that you're not telling me?” The tone of her voice made his chest ache: she seemed hurt and still cautious. It was something that had never occurred in their interactions.

Oh Lord, what was he going to say?

“I... I don't...” He stammered for a moment and looked away, unable to meet her amber gaze.

Truthfully, he was unable to stay close to her right now.

He swung his legs of the mattress and turned his back to her.

He needed a moment to gather his thoughts and come up with something. He couldn't tell her the truth: it would ruin everything.

“Fitz...” He tensed slightly as he heard her softer tone. The sort of tone she used when he was irritated and she wanted to soothe him.

He felt the bed dip as she moved and then felt the warm weight of her hand on his shoulder. Fitz swallowed dryly, fighting the urge to move away or turn to look at her.

Jemma could read him clearly: she'd immediately know that he was struggling with something.

“Fitz....” She repeated his name again; her voice was carefully gentle but he could hear the concern and caution beneath it. “Please… Just talk to me. I _know_ that something is bothering you.”

“I told you-”

"I know that you're lying."

Fitz' head snapped to a side, taken aback by her words and regretted it immediately.

Jemma's eyes were pleading...and she was so, _so_ close.

Fitz got to his feet, feeling the light resistance of Jemma's hand on his shoulder and had to shrug it off. He didn't dare to look at her as he took a few steps on the soft plush carpet.

He took a deep breath and tightened his hands in fists.

He had to say something.

"I'm not lying to you, Jemma," he said, looking at his feet. "I'm just- Many things have happened lately..." _You almost died. Twice_ . "And we're dealing with more dangers -a whole lot more than I ever expected." _And I'm not sure I'll bear to see that happen again._ "And... I'm just thinking about... all these changes." _I'm in love with you and I want you to be safe but I'm not enough for you_ . "I...I was just thinking of what will happen from now on..." _You will always see me as your best friend and I don't know for how long I can keep hiding without ruining everything._

“Change?” Jemma's voice was closer and he looked up and saw sitting on his side of the bed. She was staring at him oddly. He couldn't read her expression so he just nodded.

“Yeah.... I was thinking about what will happen and what will change.”

  


_I'm preparing myself for the moment that I'll lose you to someone else..._

 

-:-

 

Jemma stared at Fitz as he stood in the middle of the lamp lit room, fireplace behind him and still burning loudly, looking at anything but her.

Her chest felt constricted both for his words and his actions. The way he had shrugged off her hand and refused to look at her just confirmed her suspicions that whatever was bothering him was related to her.

They had shared more than a tough moment together but Fitz had never refused her attention or comfort.

 _Never_.

And his talking about changes? Fitz hated change. He liked routines and familiarity; that was the main reason of their argument to join Coulson's team in the first place.

But then he started to accept field work (after they had both being in danger during missions, she noticed) and... he started to change. He was less naïve and more hardened, more practical while designing weapons and gadgets for the field (he had re-named the Night-Night gun and that was something that she'd _never_ thought would happen) and he was changing from the Fitz she had known for years.

She knew that it was bound to happen: she had changed as well but she had expected that they'd grow together during their stay with the Team. She didn't think that they'd somehow grow apart...

Jemma had never thought of that possibility.

“What sort of changes?” She asked, sitting straighter and gripping the duvet tightly with both of her hands.

It was odd to not know in advance what Fitz might say.

He looked at her, blue eyes clouded with that same emotion that she had seen before and in many other moments in the past weeks.

Fitz opened his mouth to talk but then clamped it shut.

“It's nothing really...” He said again and scratched the back of his neck. “Just... stupid thoughts.”

“I've long learned that nothing you think is stupid, Fitz,” she retorted and he glanced at her. She saw something in his eyes that made her heart speed up; it was a look that he'd given her back in Sci-Ops during that night that he'd forgotten and that was seared in her mind.

But then it disappeared and he smiled softly, almost sadly.

“It was like you said before,” he said. “I didn't expect us to be here today while we were still at the Academy. So... I was just wondering of how things could be in -let's say an year? Two or more? Everything might be pretty much the same as it is now but... I tried to think of different scenarios... I-I imagined myself still in a lab, maybe a non-mobile one, working for the Team. Or back a the Hub, working on some project that the upper levels would submit me...”

Jemma felt something cold coil in her stomach as she heard how he spoke in singular tense.

“What about me?” She asked, swallowing dryly.

“Er... you? Right, you...” He faltered and looked away. “In the lab, maybe, with me... Or in the field. Or who knows? You're the adventurous one.”

His attempt of a teasing tone didn't even reach her.

“You... You imagine us separated?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them and sounded choked to her own ears.

Fitz' eyes widened.

“What? No, wait... I don't imagine us separated,” he protested. “I just thought-”

“Why?” Jemma stood up, unable to sit down.

“I just thought that it could happen,”

“Why though?”

“I-” He ran a hand through his hair, messing his curls. “Well, it's just a possibility, no?”

She approached him but stopped when he took a step back. Feeling almost nauseous, Jemma bit her lip and looked at the ground.

She had never imagined them separated. Never. Not even when they were debating whether to join Coulson's Team; she knew that they'd come to an agreement at some point. As they always did.

Was he _that_ unhappy of their current settlement? Did he dislike the field to the point of not caring if she was there with him?

The moment she thought this, Jemma realised that something wasn't right. Fitz might have hated field work but he had adapted to it. And he was also good at it. He had been praised by May, Ward and even Coulson.

No... There was something else.

She was involved in this sudden change of mind.

“What did I do, Fitz?” She asked and his head snapped towards her.

“What?” He asked in bewilderment.

“Your behaviour, your words, _you_ ,” She gestured to him. “You in these past weeks... You've kept saying that nothing was wrong while something was clearly bothering you-”

“Jemma-”

“-and now you say that you're thinking about an immediate or remote future where we're not even working together-”

“Jemma, please-”

She stopped him again, voice cracking slightly.

“-so, tell me: what did I do?”

He stared at her with conflicted eyes but didn't say a word. She felt her heart break.

What happened? What could have permanently chipped or broken their relationship? When had they stopped talking to each other?

Jemma averted her gaze, feeling tears pooling in her eyes and angrily swiped them away. She wasn't going to break down: she wanted answers.

She needed to know what was wrong.

“Fitz, just talk to me,” she said, looking back at him. “Please. I can't fix this if I don't know wha-”

Her mind suddenly did the math. Fitz had been edgy and odd for a while but everything had gone downhill since her date with Agent Triplett.

She recalled his expression and the odd look in his eyes when she saw him in the lab.

It didn't make sense. He hadn't said anything to her; he hadn't stopped her and he knew about the date since he asked her about it when she came back.

He didn't care, did he?

 

But she also recalled the way he'd look at men who talked to her more... She had always labelled it as over protectiveness. Maybe a bit of fear of losing her.

She had never thought of it as jealousy even though a part of her was quite keen to go down that road.

 

Doubt crept through her veins.

 

Had she hurt him without realising it?

 

-:-

 

Fitz felt the urge to approach Jemma and hug her when she pleaded him with teary eyes but restrained himself.

It was for the best. He just had to make her understand what his thoughts were. He didn't want them to be separated (the mere thought made him ill) but he had to come to terms with the fact that, at some point, they'd take different roads.

If not from their work's point of view, it would surely happen for their personal lives.

He had spent countless hours imagining the day when Jemma would come and tell him that she'd fallen in love with some bloke, that they'd move in together... He dreaded the day when she'd announce her marriage.

He was a terrible friend, he was fully aware of that. He should imagine those moments as happy things to hope for her. But he only saw them as dreadful moments for himself.

 

Maybe, someday, he'll be happy for her. He'll get there. For her, he'll get there. But he needed time and perhaps-

 

“You've been like this since my date with Agent Triplett.”

 

Fitz' eyes widened, the words breaking his stream of thoughts and he looked at her.

“What?” He asked.

Jemma stared at him, eyes a mingle of emotions that went from confused to hurt.

“I said that you've been behaving oddly since the night I went to dinner with Agent Triplett,” Her amber eyes were fixed on him and Fitz had to look away. This was bad.

“Wha-? No,” He couldn't look at her because if he did, she'd see that he was lying.

“Fitz,” Her tone was soft and careful again. “It was just a dinner. I'm not planning to leave-”

“I know and that's not-”

“He helped me save Skye before you and the others got the GH325. I accepted out of gratitude mostly.”

“You don't have to explain me anything, Jemma. It's not my business.”

He regretted his words the moment they were out of his mouth. He blamed his raw emotions and wanted to swallow them back. He shouldn't have been looking at her: he wouldn't have seen how Jemma recoiled, literally, and would haven't seen the crushed expression on her face.

His traitorous brain told him that he was misreading her and that maybe his feelings could be reciprocated. Words exchanged during that night in their last year at Sci-Ops, words that she had forgotten in her drunken state and that he had memorized despite his better knowledge, came back to his mind.

He knew that Jemma cared for him, loved him even; the point was that she wasn't _in love_ with him.

“I'm just being realistic, Jemma,” he said, ignoring his thoughts and the way his heart lurched. “We won't... This-,” he gestured at the space between them. “-will stop at some point.”

“Why?” She approached him, looking fierce despite her tearful eyes. “You're saying that our partnership, friendship, _everything_ has to end some day... Why?”

“It's life, Jemma,” he tried to explain, hoping that she'd understand. “I... We've been friends for ten years and I'm sure -I'm sure- that we'll be friends for even more.” He honestly hoped so otherwise he'd likely go insane if he lost her completely. “But I'm not delusional. At some point, we won't be this close anymore.” He tried to smile at her but it faded immediately at the sight of her chagrined face. “It could be work or... significant others.”

“You're assuming that I'll be leaving...”

“I didn't say that,” But he did actually. He wouldn't leave her side if she allowed him to stay.

“You think that though,” she retorted and wrapped her fingers around her neck. “I can't believe that you think that I'm like that...”

“Jemma-” She stepped back when made to approach her. “I didn't-” She looked distraught and he didn't know what to do. God, he had messed up... “Jemma...”

“I told you that I wouldn't know what to do without you either and yet you...”

Fitz blinked, a rush of warmth going through his body at her words and immediately followed by a wave of confusion.

“ _What?_ ” He asked. He never told her that. He was fully aware that he wouldn't know what to do without her but he'd never find the courage to tell her.

Jemma stared at him and paled.

“Jemma?” He approached her again but she didn't move this time. She looked petrified in shock.

Fitz wracked his brain, going through all of their conversations.

“I...”

“I never told you that,” he whispered and her eyes widened. “Did I?”

“Once,” she replied softly and averted her gaze. “At Sci-Ops.”

His brain located the conversation and his heart stuttered.

Yes, it was true. Jemma had drunkenly told him that she wouldn't know what to do without him and he had replied in the same fashion. And that moment had escalated...

 

But that wasn't point.

 

“You...You remember that night?” She had never said a word, never mentioned _anything_...

Jemma stared at him, amber eyes wide and glassy and he just knew.

Whatever remained of his heart just shattered in his chest.

 

He'd been right then...

The kiss and moments they had shared didn't mean anything to her.

  


She didn't care.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, leave a comment... :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…  
> In this chapter, we have Fitz’ flashback and it should help understand why this clueless scientist is so in love and in pain.   
> I lied: there are two more chapters after this. This story has turned into a novel and the additional chapters were necessary.  
> Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 who helped me edit this..  
> Here we go... :)

* * *

_**reservation, n** _

 

_There are times when I worry that I've already lost myself. That is, that my self is so inseparable from being with you that if we were to separate, I would no longer be.(...)_

 

_ -The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan- _

-:-  
  


Fitz stared at Jemma who looked thoroughly shocked; he tried to wonder why but his head and heart were breaking apart and didn’t allow him to worry about her.

He’d held on to an event that had occurred last year and that had fueled his hopes that his best friend could have -or _share_ really- feelings for him.

He’d quickly shunned the memory to a corner of his head after realising that Jemma didn’t remember but, nevertheless, he hadn't forgotten.

To learn now that she’d always remembered and just… _didn’t care_ was just too much.

Fitz couldn’t bear the thought even though the images of that night revolved in his mind

 

-:-

 

_-Sci-Ops, Boston, 31 December 2011-_

 

Fitz didn't know how he had been convinced to leave the apartment for the noisy, chaotic mayhem that was the SHIELD New Year's party... but yet, there he was.

He picked the knot of his tie with a finger, tugging slightly to allow a little more air to slip under his neck and sipped on his glass of scotch, savouring the strong taste of the good, surely expensive, liquor.

The party was a yearly event that took place in the conference hall of Boston's Sci-Ops division but he and Simmons had never participated in the six years they had been there.

They were either too busy with assignments or back in the UK to celebrate the holidays with their families. They had intentionally stayed back this year in Boston to celebrate their promotion and the possibility of transferring to another  lab.

He and Simmons had been promoted to Level 5 after successfully helping in a rather secretive mission that had been monitored by the Hub. They had provided assistance without being in the field and had analysed all the information provided by the Hub's teams.

They had built a detection device from scratch and it seemed that it had been of primary use during the mission. They didn't get any details since the mission required Level 7 access but they had been praised by their S.O and the Hub.

Weeks later, Agent Avery called them, announcing their promotion and the offer to directly help teams in the field. Simmons had been elated while he...

Fitz sighed, swallowing another long sip of his drink and glancing towards his partner. She was talking with some of their co-workers, laughing at something while nursing her drink.

He was happy to see her having fun. He'd noticed that something was slightly off with her; every now and then, it was as though something was bothering her but she wouldn't say what it was all about.

He also couldn't help but notice ( _again_ ) that she looked stunning.

Simmons always wore jumpers and blouses with ties, matching his own style in some way. So when she walked out of her room, earlier that evening, wearing a short-sleeved, above the knee, colourful _dress_ , he'd almost stumbled over his feet. Thankfully she hadn't noticed and had just thought that he was a klutz.

She had worn a long wool coat to keep warm in the cold Boston night and black heels that did something to her legs because he was pretty sure that he’d never noticed they were that long before and...

_Get a grip, Fitz_ , he thought as he finished his drink, ignoring the slight burning in his throat.

Simmons was his best friend, partner _and_ housemate. He shouldn't be thinking of her legs, her looks or...her _anything._

Never mind her being beautiful.

There were days when he couldn't help but notice that his partner was a girl and a very pretty one.

He was constantly aware of her brilliance and the myriad of qualities that made Jemma the person she was but every now and then, he would look at her and just stare.

And then avert his gaze when she turned around, ignoring his stuttering heartbeat.

He had been duelling with these feelings for years now but he had always managed to keep them at bay or bury them, thinking that he was just projecting his emotions.

Simmons was his first true friend and had soon become the best thing that had ever happened to him. Of course, he would start to mistake that deep friendship for something more…

He was a bloody genius and he knew that he was just developing a little crush that would surely fade. That was what he had been telling himself for years as he dated random girls and Simmons went out with other men.

But now, he wasn’t sure of that anymore.

In the past months, those well-hidden feelings just simmered in his chest and were all too willing to come out of his mouth.

He suspected that being constantly together, at work and at home, had just heightened his jumbled emotions. And the fact that they hadn't been dating anyone either just made him think that maybe, there could be a... possibility.

They'd been partners for six years and were well-known throughout SHIELD. The agency had very strict policies towards fraternisation but they were scientists and -honestly, speaking- two of the best in Sci-Ops. Maybe they could be excluded if they ever-

Fitz ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the bar.

 

What the hell was he thinking?

 

They might be closer than usual lately and behaving in a way that was so domestic that their co-workers constantly teased them about it but Simmons had never shown any interest in him.

He was far from her type

 

Shoving away his bruised ego and berating his thoughts, Fitz ordered another drink and sipped it by the bar, looking around the hall as people danced. He was halfway through his scotch when Simmons appeared next to him.

“There you are,” she said, arching a brow at him.

“I told you that I wanted to get a drink,” he replied.

“Yes... and that was almost fifteen minutes ago.” Fitz blinked. _Really?_

He also realised that he had downed the drink while at the bar and had taken another. But Simmons didn't have to know that.

“There was a bit of a crowd here,” he remarked lamely, hoping that she didn't notice his blatant lie but his partner rolled her eyes at him.

“You're sulking,” she announced dryly, ordering another drink. It occurred to him that this was probably her third as well.

“No, I'm not,” he retorted. “I'm-”

“-drinking on your own rather than enjoying the party?” She offered teasingly, taking her drink from the bartender who, Fitz noticed, was a square jawed, tall bloke who smiled at her in a appreciative way that made his stomach coil.

But Simmons smiled politely at then turned to look at him. Fitz took a sip of scotch to hide the smug smile on his face.

“You know that I don't like parties,” he admitted.

“You wouldn't say?” He rolled his eyes at her teasing tone and gently elbowed her shoulder.

“I'm here because you bullied me to come.”

“I did not!” She exclaimed and he laughed at her tone of disbelief.

Simmons stared at him for a moment, her eyes unreadable and then smiled. Fitz looked at her in confusion; she'd been doing this a lot lately...

“What?” She asked, leaning against him slightly as she allowed a couple to walk past her. The simple contact of their arms shouldn’t be sending his heart rate in overdrive...

He swallowed dryly as he looked at her.

“Er…” He cleared his throat and took a sip of scotch. He was grateful that they’d decided to take a taxi back home: he wouldn’t have drank even half of what he had if he’d been driving.

And… a bit of liquid courage might help him here.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“What?” She looked at him in confusion.

“You've been off lately,” he explained, nodding towards a free space between the bar and the dance floor. Simmons was about to retort -he recognised the stance- so he held out a hand to stop her. “I’m just saying that you seem fine but, every now and then, you look odd; as though something is troubling you.”

He wondered if this situation, with them out, having drinks, would help her open up a bit. It was chaotic but perhaps it was better than the intimacy of their shared apartment where it was just the two of them.

Despite their close friendship and partnership, there were times when they couldn't talk freely.

They were both reserved about their personal feelings and thoughts, even with each other.

Simmons took a small sip of her cocktail, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Fitz waited patiently, ignoring the way his stomach churned as she kept silent.

“I'm just coming to realise how things might change from now on...” She said slowly. “With the promotion and us possibly leaving for field work.”

“What?” Fitz looked at her. Of all the things, this was the last he expected. They were meant to meet Agent Avery in a few days and discuss their options.

Giving their line of work, Fitz assumed that they'd be moved to a larger lab with more equipment and probably be asked to help actively in field work. He dreaded the thought of having to go out in the field and rather liked working in the lab but if he was ordered to do so, he wouldn't have much of a choice.

Moreover, Simmons was elated to do more work and to be out in the field. She had been going on about seeing the world and discovering new things.

They'd spent days talking about it and her enthusiasm never faded.

To learn that she had doubts was reassuring and alarming altogether.

Fitz wondered if his own uncertainty had bled on to her.

“But... You wanted to go into the field,” he remarked. “You've spent weeks trying to-”

“I know, Fitz,” she said, looking up at him. “I know...It's just...”

“Yeah?” He fully turned to look at her, hoping that she'd tell him what was wrong. She bit her lip and glanced at him.

“I crossed Agent Avery last night as we were leaving the lab,” she said. “I was meaning to tell you but we didn't have a chance to talk- But nothing is certain yet so I didn't know whether to tell you-”

“What's going on?” He asked, tensing slightly. Did their S.O decide to send them to different teams? It was something very unlikely to happen but there _was_ a remote possibility that...

 

“FitzSimmons, there you are!”

 

They turned as one at their name and found themselves staring at the grinning face of their coworkers, James Carver and Amy Knight. The two scientists worked in the labs next to their own and had been their friends from the moment they had come to Sci-Ops. They had been behaving as two very supportive older siblings and didn't even seem to be bothered that they were promoted so soon despite being at Sci-Ops for less time than them.

“What are you two doing here, huddled in this corner?” Amy remarked. “We should be celebrating! It's New Year's Eve and you two have been promoted!”

“Come on,” James cajoled, finishing his glass of wine. “It's a party and we're not partying enough.”

FitzSimmons were dragged to the bar again as James ordered something.

“How are these two SHIELD scientists again?” Fitz whispered to Simmons as Amy took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Are we going to turn into alcoholics like them now that we're Level 5?”

“Fitz!” Simmons snorted and whacked his arm with her hand and he grinned.

“What were you saying before-?” He started to ask but she shook her head, gesturing towards the others. He frowned slightly.

“I'll tell you later,” she whispered, stepping up to talk against his ear. “Don't worry, Fitz. It's not... It's not bad...”

“A-alright,” he replied, failing to shiver slightly as her breath caressed his skin. She looked at him softly, making his heart jump in his chest.

He had to find a way to stop these feelings. Or control them at least...

“Here, we go!”

Fitz had a glass of champagne thrust into his hand while his scotch was left behind on the bar's counter. Simmons received the same treatment.

James and Amy held two glasses and sported identical grins as they looked at them.

“Come on, FitzSimmons,” they said together. “A toast for you: Sci-Ops youngest Level 5s!” And they held out their glasses.

FitzSimmons shared a look and smiled, holding out their glasses and they all clinked them together.

“Cheers!”

Fitz glanced at his partner only to find her staring at him. She tilted her head and smiled softly.

“Here's to us, Fitz,” she said and clinked her chalice with his.

“Here's to us,” he agreed and they drank.

 

-

 

When the Year 2012 was announced, he'd joined the cheering with all the crowd and then turned to Simmons who was by his side. She looked up at him, beaming and quickly stepped up on her toes to brush a kiss on his cheek.

“Happy New Year,” she said and he mumbled the same to her.

It was chaste and friendly and not the slightest romantic, but Fitz felt his heart skip a beat and ignored the voice in his head that told him to move forward and kiss her in a completely not-platonic way.

It must be the alcohol…

It was little after one o'clock in the morning and the party was still going strong but Fitz wasn't standing in a corner anymore.

After drinking with Amy and James -drinking quite a bit, he had to say- they'd all stayed together until the midnight countdown.

After that, they'd ended up by the dance floor. A fully-sober and steady Fitz wouldn't have taken a step close to the floor but a slightly inebriated Fitz seemed to be prone to do that.

And if you added an inebriated Jemma Simmons into the equation, he'd be willing to try to dance even though he never had before.

Simmons took his arm, fingers latching around his wrist. He wondered if she was swaying to the music or because she was tipsy.

“Let's dance, Fitz,” she said, tugging him slightly.

“I don't know, Simmons...” He remarked, watching the myriad of people dancing as the music echoed throughout the hall. “I'd probably step on your feet...”

“Come on, it will be fun. Please?” She turned to him with wide, amber eyes. He'd never been able to say no to her: his alcohol-addled brain was not going to allow him to start now.

“Well...”

“Just one dance,” And she moved closer, a mere inch between them as she looked at him with warm eyes. “For me?”

He found himself nodding and following her to the dance floor.

“Thank you,” she whispered, stepping up to his ear again as she took her place in front of him.

“Anything for you,” he said softly and blinked.

What?

Thankfully, she didn't hear him with the loud music but just smiled, tilting her head to a side. He shook his head and just followed her lead, blushing slightly when she moved his hands to rest on her waist.

“Relax, Fitz,” she whispered again and he nodded -though he was not relaxed at all; with her heels, she was just an inch shorter than him, her head skimming his nose and overwhelming him with the lavender hint of her perfume.

They moved in sync, him copying her movements and they danced for a couple of songs without him realising it. At some point, the music changed, turning slower and he looked at her when he saw that there were only couples dancing now.

“Do you still-?” He didn't want to assume that she'd want to continue even though he was not quite against the idea.

“Yes,” she nodded and moved her hands up his shoulders, stepping closer to him. He failed to hide his blush again.

“Relax, Fitz,” she said again. He could hear her clearly now despite the music.

“Hmm,” he hummed and smiled at her, taking in her bright eyes and too bright smile. “Are you drunk, Simmons?”

“No.”

“You are,” he drawled slightly.

“A little bit,” she conceded, swaying with him. “Maybe.”

“So much for the English high-tolerance to alcohol...”

“I could easily out drink anyone here,” she scoffed.

“Not me.”

“You're drunk too.”

“I'm not!”

“You are currently dancing with me, Fitz. You must be drunk to have accepted to do that.”

“Or you're just very good at convincing me.”

He didn't mean anything with that statement but something about it made her eyes cloud slightly before she averted her gaze. He blinked and inadvertently tightened his hold on her waist.

“Hey...” She looked up at him. “What's wrong?”

“You... You do want to work in the field, right?”

“What?”

“I'm not forcing you, am I?”

“Simmons, what-?” He stopped moving altogether and she teetered on her heels, off balance. He steadied her with both his hands on her waist.

“Don't stop,” she said softly and he nodded and they started swaying again.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, looking at her. “We're partners: you're not forcing me anywhere. We've decided this-”

“-together,” she finished. “But... you'd tell me if you didn't want to go, right? If you had any... reason to stay here, you'd tell me?”

“Of course,” he replied. He honestly didn't have any reason to stay where he was if she was leaving. His fear wasn't a valid reason: Simmons was. If she was going, he was going.

She stared at him and smiled; uncertain of what she was thinking, he smiled back.

 

-

 

“Easy there, Simmons.”

“Fitz...”

 

They were leaving the party and Simmons was slightly unsteady on her legs. She was blaming her heels, her being tired and many other factors but Fitz could clearly see that she was tipsy.

He was slightly drunk too but he managed to walk in a straight line.

Amy and James were waiting for next to two taxis.

“See you guys at work!” Amy chirped, waving at them and slipping into the car. James grinned.

“You two alright?” He asked, watching Simmons' arms latched to Fitz's right arm. “You'll get home in one piece?”

“Yeah...” Fitz said and Simmons nodded next to him. “Don't worry. Are you two ok?” James and Amy had been drinking and dancing the entire night.

“Yeah, we're good,” he replied with a wave. “We'll go home and probably celebrate more.” He winked at him and got into the car.

Fitz cocked his head, wondering how he could still be thinking of drinking after the party as he helped Simmons into the taxi. He happened to glance at the the other car and his eyes widened when he saw James and Amy kissing in the backseat.

Blushing, he got into the taxi and quickly gave their apartment's address to the driver. Simmons moved closer to him, trembling slightly.

“Cold?” He asked, automatically putting an arm around her. She nodded, scooting closer.

“God, you're warm,” she whispered, hiding her face against his shoulder.

He hummed in agreement, ignoring the little thrill at having her so close.

“Did you know that James and Amy were-?” How could he define them? A couple? A thing? Were they anything actually? For all he knew they might be snogging drunkenly.

“Amy mentioned that they've been dating for a while,” Simmons replied, her voice muffled. “Since they work together, they've applied for an exception in the fraternisation rule and then made it official.”

“Did they?” Fitz looked at her. “I didn't even know that they were together....”

“You don't notice these sorts of things, Fitz.”

“Hey, I know when you're dating.” How could he not notice when some square-jawed, muscular bloke would ask her out and make her smile?

“Well, I'd hope so. We live _together_.” And for Fitz' joy, she never brought anyone home.

Fitz scoffed and he felt her giggle softly. They sat in silence for a while as the taxi went down the streets bustling with people going back home after celebrating New Year.

“I didn't know that there were exceptions to Section 17,” he stated as he thought about her words again. “I thought that fraternisation was prohibited and that was that.”

Simmons hummed against his arm and then moved slightly so that she was leaning against him, fingers clutching the material of his jacket.

“Exceptions are rare and are usually allowed only in certain departments and headquarters,” she said softly. “Amy explained it to me a bit...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. For example, they could ask for an exemption because even though they work in the same building and lab, they are in a team of scientists. Anything that happened between them, good or bad, wouldn't disrupt the team's work.”

Fitz tried not to think about it but his mind made the comparison to their situation. They were partners and usually worked on their own.

They wouldn't be exempted...

“Agents who work in single teams, mobile units and such are highly discouraged from fraternizing,” Simmons said, fingertips drawing lines on his bicep. “There have been exceptions to that rule even though they're rare.”

“Got it...” Fitz said slowly and looked outside the window, ignoring the pang of disappointment in his chest. He heard Simmons sigh softly.

“I'll miss them, you know?” Simmons whispered and he turned to her.

“What?” She looked at him with bright amber eyes and his heart skipped a beat.

“Amy and James and all the others.”

“We don't know if we're meant to leave.”

“Agent Avery told me that there's a request for us to join a team,” she explained and his eyes widened.

“Really?” She nodded slowly, taking in his expression. She was looking at him oddly again and he found himself wondering what she was thinking. It was unsettling really.

If there was one thing he was completely sure, it was that he knew Jemma Simmons' thoughts as his own. But then again, his own mind was jumbled with confused and emotion-filled thoughts; how could he expect to know what she was thinking?

They didn't talk anymore and just sat in silence as the taxi drove them home. When they got out and Fitz paid the driver, Simmons latched on to his arm again, swaying after securing the strap of her  handbag on her shoulder.

“You alright there?” He asked and she nodded, burying her face in his shoulder. Ignoring the way he enjoyed her proximity and amused by her attitude, he steered her to the gate and then to their building. Barely three steps later, Fitz' arm went around Simmons' waist, hand grabbing her hip as she almost tripped on the pavement.

“I'm never wearing heels again,” Simmons muttered as they walked up the steps to the door.

“Blaming the shoes now?” He teased.

“I'd like seeing you walking around in them."

“Hmm.... I'm good on skates. Isn't it a matter of balance after all?"

"Sure, balance. What about the muscular pain of endurance?" Simmons' hands were wrapped around his arm again. “Bloody hell, there was _a reason_ that I didn't wear these shoes for years.”

"You should be grateful that I'm a gentleman and I'm not laughing at your excuses."

She hit his arm and he grinned as they walked into the lift and he pressed their floor number.

"If you were a gentleman, you'd carry me home and not make me shuffle in pain."

Fitz turned abruptly and stared at her but Simmons was looking at the ground and he couldn't see her face.

Was she speaking seriously? Or was she so sloshed that she’d say something like that? Simmons prided herself in being completely independent so her words sounded odd to his ears.

They were almost at their floor and he kept his eyes on her. She was leaning on him with her hands loose around his bicep; it hit him how slender and delicate she was. He wondered how it would feel to hold her in a way that was not thoroughly friendly.

He _could_ probably lift her up without problems...

Fitz knew that he shouldn't be feeding these thoughts; he figured that he had to be drunk to even contemplate...

But would it be that bad to try to give in to those feelings for once? If things got awkward, he could blame the drinks.

For _once_...

The lift's doors' opened just as he fished the keys out of his jacket pocket and he squared his shoulders, startling Simmons who straightened up abruptly.

“Here,” he said, putting his keys in her hand and she stared at them before looking up at him.

“What? I have mi- _Fitz!_ ” Her protest changed into a high pitched squeak as he picked her up bridal-style, one hand supporting her back, the other holding her around the back of her knees.

He was right: she was slight and he didn't even stumble when he walked down the hallway to their front door.

“Fitz, I was- _Fitz,_ ” Simmons squeaked again. “Put me _down_!”

“You asked for this,” he replied, stopping mid-step and looking down at her with a grin. “Serves you right for doubting about me being a gentleman.”

She stared at him, amber eyes wide and bright and he ignored the voice in his head that was telling him that kissing her would be _so_ easy now.

He didn't know what she saw in his face but she relaxed in his hold, going soft. She moved her hands up from where they were tangled in his chest to his neck, looping her arms around him. Fitz tried to keep his composure when she leaned her head against his chest.

“I never doubted that,” she whispered. “I know that you're better than anyone else.”

Fitz was sure that she could hear his heart thundering loudly in his ribcage.

“Well, don't exaggerate...” He said teasingly. “I'm a genius alright but-”

“I'm not exaggerating. You are better, Fitz.” She moved the hand with the keys and swiftly unlocked the door. He had made the lock and keys so that it no one but them could get inside the apartment and the mechanism was easy but very precise: it worked as a swipe card almost.

“I am?” Doubt crept in his voice as he walked into the apartment.

Simmons switched the lights on and stared at him, eyes warm in a way that made him blush.

“You've always been better than anyone for me, Fitz,” she said, moving slightly.

He thought about the picture they presented right now; standing at the threshold of their shared apartment, Simmons looking at him while he was holding her in his arms, hands resting on the small of her back and the back on her legs, suddenly aware of the warm, soft skin beneath his fingers and unable to get his eyes off her.

Right...

He really, _really_ , should stop himself from doing something he'd regret.

“T-thanks...” He mumbled and gently put her down. He expected her to let him go and step back but she didn't. Simmons' arms were still looped around his neck and she was staring at him. Then, unexpectedly, she moved forward and hugged him.

“S-Simmons?” He gasped as his back hit the front door, closing it with a loud thud.

He was awfully aware of her body pressed to him, subtle curves barely covered by her coat and meshing with the harder lines of his body.

“Hey...” He tried to catch her attention but she just hummed in response, squeezing him tighter and burying her face against his neck.

“You'd still come with me if we left for a team, right?” Her voice was muffled but he blinked at her uncertain tone.

Was she worried about this? Did she think that he wanted to leave her since he didn't like field work?

“I'm not letting you go on your own, Simmons,” he replied,moving a hand from his side up her back and stroking slightly. “You're stuck with me.”

“I wouldn't know what to do without you.”

“I wouldn't know either,” he whispered softly, sinking into her hug. He couldn't imagine his life with seeing Jemma Simmons every day.

She sighed contentedly and Fitz let out a long breath through his teeth in an attempt to calm himself but to no avail. She was pressed against him entirely and her breath was warm against his neck: his body was starting to show definite interest and _that_ was quite a problem.

She moved again, fingers curling around his neck and into his hair.

Oh Mother of all things...

“Simmons,” he whispered, trying to pry her arms off him. “I think you should go to bed.” And he had to _dive_ under a cold shower.

“Hmm,” she responded and stepped back. He immediately felt the loss of warmth but managed a small smile at her.

Fitz took off his jacket and helped Simmons out of her coat, hooking them on the coat hanger in the hallway; then, he walked her to her room.

She was still swaying slightly but they managed to get inside and he made her sit on her bed. He grinned as he saw her remove her heels immediately and then flop on the mattress with a sigh.

Fitz looked around the room -the insanely clean and ordered room- and found the little bag where she carried her toiletries.

“You need this?” He asked, taking it and approaching her. “Don't you usually clean off all-?” He gestured vaguely to her face. Simmons sat up again and looked at him in surprise.

He scoffed.

“I _do_ notice things, you know?” He remarked, pulling out a moisturised swipe and a small bottle that he recognized as the make-up remover-thing. “I've seen you do this plenty of times when we come home.” He dabbed some of the cream on the tissue and handed it to her. “I used to tell you that it was-”

“-a complete waste of time to put this all on my face if I had to take it off hours later,” Simmons finished, taking the tissue. He blinked and nodded. He watched her clean her face with in quick swipes and then tossed it away in the little bin by her desk.

“Are you alright?” He asked, standing right next to her. “Since I'm up, I can get you something if you need it.”

Simmons stared at him and then shook her head.

“You're being awfully sweet...” She stated, tilting her head to a side. “You're not drunk, are you?”

“ _Oy_!” He protested and she laughed. “You'll see... Next time, I'll ditch you somewhere and you'll have to hobble and sway back home.”

“And what happened to being stuck with me?” She teased. Fitz grinned and poked her arm with a finger.

“Oh, so you're pulling that out now, huh? Using my words against me?” She laughed again and he could see that she was tired..

“Come on, off to bed....” He said and helped her lie down . She shot him an odd look but allowed him to remove her blanket and sheets and make her lie down. He was straightening up when she patted a spot on the mattress next to her hip, inviting him to sit down.

He sat next to her and  was slightly unsettled by the way she was looking at him.

“Simmons?” He ventured. She smiled softly.

“I really wouldn't know what to do without you...” She whispered and he blushed as her hand came up to rest on his cheek.

“Ah... yeah.. er-” He cleared his voice. “You're just saying that because-”

He couldn't finish his sentence. Before he knew it, Simmons tugged at his tie, bringing him closer to her while she moved up.

And she kissed him.

 

Fitz' mind went blank.

 

Simmons was kissing him.

 

His mind came back to life telling him to pull back, stop her and not ruin everything but he didn't do anything; instead, his eyes closed and he kissed her back, lips moving gently against hers.

When she pulled back, he dared to open his eyes and expected to see shock in her face or something that would make her realise that she was making a mistake.

He didn't expect the warm affection in her amber eyes or the soft smile on her face. His heart was beating fast in his chest but he held her gaze and quirked his lips upward.

Simmons' eyes lit up and she moved both of her hands to his face, cupping his jaw and brought him down again. This time, Fitz willingly closed his eyes and moved a hand to entangle with her hair as their lips met again with renewed eagerness.

He didn't know how much time had passed -he was too busy keeping up with Simmons' lips as they moved over his,chasing them and when she pulled back for air. At some point, he'd kicked off his shoes and crawled over her on the bed while his hands rested on the back of her head and on her hip, keeping her in place as they kissed.

Simmons' hands were more daring. His tie was off his neck when he noticed how scorching hot the room was getting and she undid a few buttons of his dress shirt too; she'd known what he’d wanted to do.

The feeling of her cool fingertips around his neck made him press forward against her and he coaxed her to deepen their kisses. He earned a soft moan from her as she responded, her fingers ran through his hair, fingernails scraping at his scalp and making his mind reel.

Any thought of stopping disappeared from his mind when Simmons nipped at his lower lip and her tongue soothed the sting. Fitz was sure that the noise that left his throat -low, gravelly, almost a growl- was something that he'd never made before and he promptly followed it by sliding his mouth down to her neck, kissing the soft skin there.

“ _Fitz..._ ” Her voice was breathy and higher than usual and it went straight to his head. His hand moved together to caress her stomach over her dress.

He realised how slight she was compared to him: his hands could almost span her waist. Her hands were small and were travelling along his chest and back; it looked as though she was carefully measuring him and trying to understand what was beneath his shirt.

Fitz lost his breath when her fingers skimmed his belt, toying with his buckle. A whole new wave of heat wracked his body.

“ _Jemma..._ ” He rasped, mouth hovering over her lips again. She smiled at him, looking apologetic.

“Not yet...” She whispered and kissed him soundly.

Fitz was sure that time had stopped because he couldn't quantify how long they’d kissed- snogged and groped at each other.

Everything was enhanced to him: every gasp that left Simmons' lips when he brushed past her breasts or thighs or every one of her touches on his body made his body tingle. He recognised the want that just burnt through him but he had enough restraint in himself to not go past this heavy snogging session.

She was getting tired: he noticed the way her hands became less frantic and her kisses softer. Without second thoughts, Fitz brushed his nose against her cheek, making her look up at him.

“Sleep, yeah?” He suggested with a smile. Simmons nodded slowly and pulled him down for one long, warm kiss before letting him go with a smile.

He rolled to a side, ready to leave when she caught his hand. Fitz turned around, arching a brow and Simmons tugged him towards her until he was on his back next to her; then, she cuddled closer to him, entwining their fingers together and was asleep before Fitz had time to realise it.

Finding himself suddenly trapped in bed and with no possibility of leaving without startling Simmons, Fitz looked at the ceiling and the enormity of what had happened hit him like a punch to the stomach.

 

God, he had just snogged his best friend.

While they were both inebriated.

 

What the bloody hell had he been thinking??

 

He turned to glance at the sleeping woman next to him. She looked peaceful, a ghost of a smile lingering on her features as her hair was fanned around her.

Fitz swallowed dryly as emotions started to consume him. He had long known that he had feelings for her but he'd thought that it was a crush that he'd been harbouring for years.

As he looked at her, he wasn't so sure...

What was he going to do?

What if she woke up, regretting everything? What would happen to them, to their friendship and partnership?

 

Fitz sighed, running his free hand across his face. He'd messed up.

 

But...

 

What if she didn't regret it?

That thought left a little, lingering flame of hope in his heart in the midst of his confused feelings.

 

If she shared his feelings, they could find a solution, right?

They'd manage to figure it out...

 

There was still hope... right?

 

-

 

Fitz didn't sleep much. He could barely close his eyes with his mind buzzing with thoughts. He managed to drift off sometime around dawn.

A soft, startled gasp woke him up at some point and he turned around to find himself staring at two wide amber eyes.

“Fitz?” Simmons' voice was confused.

He blinked, trying to be less groggy and nodded.

“Yeah?” He said.

“Wha-what are you-? What happened?” He felt her fingers disentangle from his hand, missing the warmth immediately as she sat up.

“We fell asleep,” he replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes and she froze. He suddenly felt tense at her reaction.

“And... why are we both-?”

“-in your bed? I brought you in after the party.” Simmons hands were around her neck: it was her nervous tic. He looked at her oddly. They had fallen asleep on the same bed in the past. So why...?

“Is everythin-?”

“The last thing I remember is getting inside the taxi...” She looked at him. “Then it's just a clean slate.”

Fitz felt something freeze inside him.

She didn't-?

“Oh...” He remarked, ignoring the way his heart thudded in his chest.

“Fitz...I...” She got up and looked around the room. Her eyes stopped at a spot on the floor next to her bed and widened again, before looking at him.

She didn't look confused now: her eyes held an alarmed look that twisted his gut.

He realised that she must have seen his shoes and his tie thrown on the ground. He also thought of what her seemingly clueless mind must be conjuring with the little details around her.

Their obviously dishevelled states and rumpled clothes, waking up in the same bed...

“Simmons...”

“Fitz, what-? Did I-?” She was stammering and looking so lost that his heart ached for a completely different reason.

 

She didn't remember.

Their relationship was still intact.

 

This was for the best, right?

 

“Simmons, nothing happened,” he said, smiling slightly. She looked uncertain and he was sure that his face was betraying him and showing his inner feelings.

He dragged his hands across his face and sighed.

“Bloody hell, my head's killing me,” he lied. “Do we still have some ibuprofen?”

“Wha-? Y-yes. It's in the cabinet,” Simmons looked at him oddly. “So, we just, fell asleep?”

“You were sloshed,” he said, turning so that she couldn't see his face as he got up and rearranged his features convincingly. “You _were_. Really.” He added, looking at her with a teasing grin. “And I was mildly drunk: I hate to admit that. We managed to get back home and I got you in here; you got rid of the heels and I gave you the stuff to take your make-up off.” He pointed around the room as he spoke and she followed him, rebuilding the memories in her head. “I was going to leave when-” _You kissed me. And I kissed you back. Repeatedly._ “-I toppled down on bed next to you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seems that I was drunker than I thought. You suggested me to stay: told me not to move...” _You held my hand for the entire night while you were asleep: I couldn't bring myself to leave._ “And that's that.”

“That's... all?” She asked and he nodded. He felt as though he was crushing his heart with his own hands when she looked relieved.

“Yeah,” he managed to smile at her.

“I'm sorry... I overreacted... but I didn't-”

“-remember anything. Yeah, I understand. It's plausible, Simmons, really.” He forced a laugh. “But, honestly, what could have happened?”

She stared at him, eyes flashing with an emotion that he couldn't define for a moment and then smiled weakly.

“You're right,” she agreed. “We're friends...”

Fitz wondered how a single statement could bring him relief and pain altogether.

“I should probably go,” he said, picking up his shoes and tie. “I need something for this bloody headache and then I need to sleep.” _And try to rearrange my thoughts_.

“Alright...” She watched him leave. “I'll make breakfast first, yeah? Then you can go to sleep.”

He nodded, wanting to leave and without the slightest appetite.

“Fitz?” He turned around. “Thank you.” Simmons smiled softly. “For helping me out.”

He thought about the way she smiled at him last night and the way she looked at him with so much want and affection; he recalled the way she felt beneath his body and hands and how kissing her had made him feel light-headed.

 

It was nothing.

 

“It was nothing, Simmons,” he said gently as he left her room.

 

-

 

When their S.O told them that they were being assigned to a mobile team, Fitz was almost glad. They'd be the only scientists of the team.

They were bound by Section 17.

He wouldn't be tempted to give in to his feelings again.

He'd keep in mind that she was his best friend.

 

Right?

-:-

 

He stared at Jemma now, standing in their shared room in Switzerland and he wondered if he had ever truly believed that he’d see her only as a friend.

 

He wondered why he hadn’t stopped deluding himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…
> 
> In this chapter, FitzSimmons try to talk and understand each other. And I mean it: they try. So, the angst is still there but... the last chapter will be up soon and will make you all feel better. Promise.
> 
> I hope you like this: I think my inspiration fed into my Season 2 FitzSimmons feelings. ;)
> 
> Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 and amandajbruce who helped me edit this..
> 
> Here we go... :)

 

* * *

_** I, n ** _

_ Me without anyone else. _

_ -The Lover's Dictionary, David Levithan- _

* * *

Jemma stared at Fitz, mind suddenly numb. He was staring with a dazed, almost heartbroken look that would have worried her if her own heart wasn't crumbling to pieces after yet another revelation.

He said that he didn't remember anything from that night during their first year at Sci-Ops.

But he  _ did _ .

She had been thinking of that moment for years; she had wondered what would have happened if Fitz remembered and how their relationship might have changed.

For the good, hopefully.

To learn that he had hidden the truth for all this time just hurt.

“You lied to me,” she whispered, failing to mask the betrayal in her tone. They had been younger back then... hadn't it meant anything to him? Didn't she at least deserve to know that truth?

Fitz blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and looked at her in disbelief.

“ Me?” He asked incredulously. “ _ I  _ lied to you?” His voice held the same amount of hurt and betrayal that she had. “What are you even talking about? You lied to me!”

“ _ What? _ ”  She couldn't believe it: was he blaming her? “What are  _ you _ talking about?” She stepped closer to him. “You said that you didn't remember anything and now you're-”

“ _ You  _ said that you didn't remember! You woke up and you just told me that-”

“ _ You  _ woke up and said that you didn't have a bloody clue what happened the night before!” Jemma exclaimed and Fitz' eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?” He retorted, stepping closer to her. “You said that! You started walking around your room after waking up, saying that you didn’t remember anything.”

He mimicked her gesture of holding her neck with her hands and the action made her start rather than angering her more.

Fitz was reliving a moment that had happened but it was not the same one that she was saying. How could it be possible??

“When?” She asked slowly and he stopped pacing and looked at her.

“Wha-?”

“When did it happen?” She repeated and her tone wavered slightly.

“You know when it-”

“ Fitz, I  _ don't,”  _ she exclaimed and wrangled her hands together. “Or better, I think that... I think that-”

“-we're speaking of-of... two different moments?” He completed quietly, turning fully to face her with a thoughtful look. They stared at each other for a moment and she wondered if he was hiding something as much as she was.

“Sci-Ops?” He queried and she nodded. At least, they got the same time frame...

“First year.” “Our last year.” Jemma froze and so did Fitz.

“ What?” He said with his eyes wide. “Our.. our  _ first  _ year? Wh-?”

“ Our  _ last  _ year?” Jemma spluttered, interrupting him. “But that was-”

“N-No, wait,” Fitz shook his head as though he didn't believe her words. “When did this happen?”

Jemma reached for her neck, fingernails scraping against her skin and somehow calming her frazzled nerves. If they kept interrupting each other they wouldn't get answers; she pushed her questions aside and looked at Fitz.

“When your mum got ill,” Jemma explained slowly. “The night you found out that she got better,” His eyes widened again and she saw something flash in his eyes. She didn't linger on it and

“What happened?” Fitz' eyes were fixed on her and Jemma suddenly couldn't stand to hold his gaze. She looked away and focused on the fireplace.

“ You were quite drunk and I had to drag you to your room,” she said, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We talked for a bit... You told me that you had been worried for many reasons.”  _ And you told me that you didn't feel alone because I was there _ . “And... you mentioned that you wouldn’t know what to do without me...” She couldn’t bring herself to think about what happened afterwards but the images flooded her mind; Jemma had to swallow dryly and look at the fireplace, concentrating on the dancing flames to erase the memory of him touching and kissing her. 

The silence that fell between them felt heavy and, for her at least, uneasy. She dared to look up and found Fit staring at her, his face unreadable.

She wondered if he was trying to force the memories back, trying to piece the moments together and recall what had happened.

“ D-did something...else happen?” Fitz asked slowly, making her eyes widen in surprise.  _ What? _

“What should have happened?” She asked rather than answering, cautiously trying to understand what he was suggesting.

Fitz frowned slightly, eyebrows drawing together and he looked at her oddly.

“I remember most of that night until I started drinking with James,” he said, folding his arms together. “Then... I just remember waking up in my room.”

Jemma nodded, feeling both relieved and disappointed that his answer was the same as the one he had given her back then.

“But you were different afterwards.”

“What?” Jemma asked in confusion.

“You were... distant.” He kept staring at her and she could almost see the gears in his head moving, conjuring ideas. “I thought that you were only being tactful, giving me space and time to spend with my mother but something was off.”

Jemma felt her heart beating faster and she couldn't speak. Of course she had been distant: she had realised that she had feelings for him. Her silence must have been too long because Fitz' face changed, going from confused to alarmed.

“Did I-?” He stumbled on his words and the colour drained from his face, leaving him pale. “I...”

“Fitz?” Jemma took a step forward, concerned by his attitude but stopped when he stepped back from her. Something twisted in her chest, making her want to cry: when had comforting each other become so difficult?

“Fitz?” She ventured again, fighting the wobbly note out of her voice. He must have sensed it, nevertheless, because his eyes met hers and she saw the flash of concern go through them.

 

When had talking become so difficult?

 

He released his arms, making them fall to his side and she saw him curl his fingers tightly into fists. He looked at her with an expression that she could only define as pained before switching to resolute and it sent a wave of worry through her.

“Did I do something, Jemma?” He asked, his body ramrod straight.

“What?” She asked. “Fitz, wha-?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“ _ What? _ ”  Jemma's eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Fitz, don't be ridiculous-”

“ I don't remember a damn thing about that night!” He started pacing again. “But I  _ do  _ remember that you seemed to keep your distance from me for a while afterwards.”

“Yes but-”

“And you're one the strongest people I know and I know that you wouldn't allow anyone to do anything to you without-”

“Fitz, you didn't-” He wasn't listening to her. He just kept rambling and walking.

“-but you're also so bloody kind. So, if I did-”

“ Oh, for God's sake,  _ Leo _ !” Jemma had had enough and her voice showed it. Fitz stopped on his tracks and turned around abruptly, eyes wide.

They'd never get out of this if they weren't honest.

“ You kissed me,” she said and he stared at her. “ _ That's  _ what happened.”

“Wha-? Jemma...?” She shook her head, stopping him from talking and stood straighter, hands clenched to her sides and took in a deep breath to steady herself.

Given the point they'd reached, what did she have to lose? Fitz had already made it clear that he was envisioning a future where she wasn't in the picture.

If she wanted to salvage whatever was left of their relationship, she had to be honest with him. Even if that meant spilling out a secret that she had been keeping since they were nineteen.

 

“And... I-I kissed you back.”

 

She’d have to openly admit her own feelings and hope for the best.

 

-:-

 

Fitz was sure that every single neuron in his brain came to a screeching halt as soon as Jemma's words sunk in.

 

That was  _ not  _ possible... It couldn't have happened  _ twice _ .

 

He clearly remembered the days when his mum had been ill: it had been one of the worst periods of his life. He tried not to linger on the thought that it had been  _ the  _ worst event of his life until Jemma's infection with the Chitauri virus and now the two moments were listed together as the things that he'd never want to relive ever again.

Amidst all the dark thoughts while his mother was ill, the only beacon of light had been Jemma. During those three days, Fitz realised just how important she was to him as a friend, as a partner... and possibly as the only constant in his new life away from home.

And he had also realised that he liked her in a way that wasn't strictly platonic and friendly.

So to hear her say that he had kissed while he'd been drunk was like a punch in the gut; had his feelings been so raw and unstable that he'd caved in the first moment he wasn't in full control?

Could he have done that?

But most of all...

Jemma had kissed him back??

He _needed_ answers.

Jemma was staring at him and looked tense. He couldn't blame her, really: he hadn't said a word after she'd spoken... But his mind was still too confused to come up with a coherent thought.

“Why?” He asked and she looked puzzled.

“What?” She moved her hands to her front, wrangling them together in the way she did when she was unsure. He realised that his question was too broad.

“ I-I meant...” He cleared his voice and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind as well. “Why-”  _ Why did you kiss me back? _ “ -didn't you tell me anything?”

Jemma looked at him oddly and then averted her gaze to the fireplace again. He tried to keep his nerves in check as he waited for her answer but the slight blush that appeared on her face made his heart thump in his chest.

“We-we were nineteen,” she said slowly, eyes flitting between him and the dancing fire. “And we'd just joined Sci-Ops... and we'd been friends for two years... I didn't know how-”

“So that's why you were distant afterwards?” He tried to ignore the dull ache in his chest as she looked away. “You didn't say a word to me because you didn't care or...”

“Fitz, you don't understand!” Jemma's tone made him look at her. She looked nervous and annoyed and terrified altogether.

There was a time when he could easily say that he knew what she was thinking; right now, he had no clue to where to start guessing.

“Then explain, will you?” He suggested, shrugging slightly and failing to suppress the lingering frustration in his tone. “I asked you if you were alright and you said-”

“ What did you expect me to  _ say _ ?” Jemma exclaimed and he caught something close to anger flash in her eyes. “ _ No, Fitz, I'm not fine. I spent the better part of last night snogging you and now you don't remember anything while  _ _** I ** _ _ do and I have no clue how to deal with these feelings _ ?!”

Jemma's outburst was so sudden that it stunned Fitz to silence. And it seemed to have the same effect on her because she stared at him for a minute, breathing heavily before she realised what she had said; her eyes widened and she took a step back, gripping her neck with both her hands. He heard his heart beat in his ears as he replayed her words and saw the flaming blush that took over her face as she turned away from him.

“Feelings?” He repeated slowly, taking a tentative step towards her. “Jemma... Do you... do you mean-?” The cloud of resignation that had resided in his body for weeks suddenly felt lighter.

She glanced at him, red in the face and eyes swirling with emotions. Fitz was torn between wanting to hold her and comfort her and want her to talk more and explain.

Jemma bit her lip and averted her gaze, making his heart drop down to his shoes.

Was he misreading her again? Hoping for something that he'd been longing for so long and projecting it in her words and actions?

He sighed softly, clenching his hands tight again and stood there in silence. Jemma's stance was rigid: her back was stiff, hands curled around her neck and fingertips digging almost painfully into her skin. He had rarely seen her like this.

He heard her take a deep breath and turn around; Fitz stared into the amber eyes that he'd learned to love and see every day for years and was shocked to see the amount of nervousness and sheer fear in them.

“Yes, feelings, Fitz,” she said softly, unfurling her hands and bringing them down to her sides. She seemed to be forcing herself to keep her eyes on him. “I felt... something that night and... I didn't know what to do or say to you.” He saw her fingers clench into fists. “I was so confused...”

“Confused?” He repeated, trying to keep his voice steady. She looked so torn and unsure and he couldn't help but hope that, maybe... Maybe there still was a chance...

“I knew I cared for you: you were my best friend,” she smiled slightly and he couldn't help the little quirk of his lips in response. “And you were also my work partner and housemate... I-I never imagined you as-as a possible love interest.” Jemma blushed and looked at the ground. “I did have occasional thoughts but I never really lingered on them... And then you said that you wouldn't know what to do without me-” Fitz felt a wave of warmth on his face too but he didn't say anything and allowed her to continue. “-and you kissed me. I honestly didn't expect to kiss you back. Repeatedly.”

Fitz was sure that his face had taken a terrible shade of maroon but he didn't care; not when his heart was beating out of his chest and Jemma was looking so adorably flustered as she recalled the kisses they had shared and  _ why  _ the  _ bloody hell  _ didn't he remember  _ anything  _ about it?

_ Way to go, drunk brain _ , he thought,  _ Go and delete one truly good memory that had happened to me. _

But his elation was cut short when his now  _ very active  _ brain reminded him that she was talking about something that had occurred almost seven years ago. And that she probably wouldn't have ever said a word about it if they hadn't been arguing.

And he also recalled that they had somehow lived a similar moment recently and that hadn't lead to anything either...

Feeling as though he'd been doused with an icy shower, Fitz shuffled on his feet.

“Was that the reason you didn't tell me anything?” He asked softly. “You didn't know why you responded?”

“ I was confused by my own self but most of all, by  _ you _ ,” Jemma remarked and his face must have shown disbelief because she actually rolled her eyes. “Fitz, you never showed any sort of interest towards me. I honestly didn't think that you even noticed that I was a girl until then...”

“Wh-what?” He spluttered, feeling indignant. “That's not tr-”

“And then you're kissing me... Well, snogging me really...” Jemma blushed again. “And I didn't know what to do because we'd both been drunk and I didn't know if you'd think of it as a mistake or... or if you'd just come and admit that you'd been harbouring feelings for me; feelings that I'd failed to notice.”

Fitz was sure that his heart stopped at that point. Was she still talking of the past? 

“What would you have done if I had remembered?” He asked, surprising himself. Jemma looked at him with an odd look.

“I would have followed your lead,” she admitted and he frowned slightly.

“What?”

“If you had come out of your room apologizing and saying that it had all been a drunken mistake, I'd have swallowed my doubts and just agreed with you,” she explained and he ignored the pang of hurt in his chest. “But... but if you had confessed that it had not been a mistake...” Fitz took another step closer to her and ignored the tick tacking of his heart. “I...I would have considered it.”

“Considered?” He repeated.

“I was sure that we'd work it out somehow... We always did.” She looked at him with sad eyes. “We always used to, at least.”

Fitz had to forcibly stop himself from moving forward and taking her in his arms. She sounded so defeated... and it was all his fault.

Swallowing dryly, he mused on her words.

They could have started a relationship; perhaps they might still be in a relationship even seven years later.

It could have been a possibility...

“But I didn't remember...” He stated bitterly and she looked at him. “So you never told me anything about it.”

The silence that fell between them was almost deafening. The crackling of the fireplace echoed throughout the room.

Fitz thought about what had occurred between them years later and he suddenly wondered what would have happened if he hadn't lied to her that day.

“I didn't stop thinking about those feeling though.”

Fitz turned to look at her so fast he was surprised that he didn't have a whiplash.

“ What?” He asked, wondering if he had misheard. He must have  _ clearly  _ misheard because Jemma didn't-

“I might have kept them to myself back then but I didn't forget them,” she said and Fitz felt his heart skip a beat at the look she gave him. “I thought it was just a crush.” She wasn't looking at him anymore but just staring at a spot on the ground near the fireplace. “It would have been so terribly cliché, really, to have a crush on my male best friend so I...I tried to shut the feelings away, thinking that they were temporary. I dated other people and you did the same.”

He remembered every single bloke she had dated: it had been a punch in the gut every single time for him. And he had dated to take his mind off her, hoping that the feelings were temporary too and that he'd settle back to being happy being her friend and not yearning for more.

“They didn't fade though...” She kept talking and the flames from the fireplace were reflecting in her eyes, making the usually clear amber sparkle and glint in ways that were mesmerizing to watch. He couldn't take his eyes off her. “And I almost thought that you felt the same, at some point...”

Fitz was sure that his heart had stopped beating. She stared at him with such a hopeful look and he wondered what was stopping him from crossing the distance and kissing her senseless. He opened his mouth but no sound came out and he saw how her eyes fell to the ground again, a flash of disappointment going through them.

Jemma sighed and walked near the fireplace, leaning against the wall.

“ I don't know what to think, Fitz,” she said quietly. “There are moments when I think that there  _ is  _ something more between us but then... it seems as though I'm only imagining it?”

Fitz sucked in a sharp breath as her words voiced his own thoughts.

“We talk about everything -or at least, we used to.” He winced at the past tense and the sad note in her voice. “But.. we've never been good expressing our emotions, feelings and... hidden thoughts.” She glanced at him and looked away and he was sure that something cracked in his chest.

“Jemma...” He said slowly, taking another few steps towards her.

“Isn't that why we're like this now?” She waved a hand between them and he stopped in his place as she mentioned the distance between them.

Distance that he'd been forcibly keeping in the past weeks.

Had he been wrong the entire time? But then why had she gone out with Triplett?

_ Because you didn't make a bloody move on her _ , his brain answered traitorously.  _ You never gave her a reason to refuse. _

“I never imagined a future without you being there, Fitz.” Jemma looked at him with a watery expression that made him chest ache. “I never thought about it; not even when we'd argued about going to the field and you were refusing to leave the lab. I tried to find anything that could convince you and I also-” She let out a short mirthless laugh. “-entertained the idea of giving up on field work if it meant keeping you...”

“What?” Fitz exclaimed. “But... but you wanted to go to the field: you loved it. You wanted to see the world, be useful and help people...”

“Yes but... with you. I didn't want to go anywhere without you,” Jemma's eyes held a soft look that made his heart melt. “I didn't want to drag you into something that you'd hate and yet I didn't want to leave alone. I didn't want you to...to hate me and regret everything about me.”

The last part came out as a whisper and Fitz realised just how much his fears and sudden words had affected her. She couldn't think that he-?

“I'd never hate you, Jemma,” he said firmly, approaching her so that they were standing in front of each other. “I'd never regret anything about you.”

“No?” The doubt in that single word made him feel like the worst person alive.

“Jem-” How could he even start to explain to her..?

“I was sure that I was being so obvious about it,” She was looking at the ground and then looked up with an odd half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. “As soon I heard that we were going to be asked to join a team, I knew that I had to be sure that you wanted to leave with me. I mean... I was always asking if you were sure about your decision and if you really wanted to come with me. God, I probably made your ears bleed during the New Year's party.”

Fitz tensed when she said that. Now that he knew what she'd been hiding, he wasn't sure if she'd be happy with what he was keeping from her...

“I can't remember how many times- what?” He blinked and found her staring at him, face scrunched in a confused expression.

“What?” He stammered.

“You did a strange... What was that face?” She stood straight and took a step forward and Fitz unconsciously stepped back.

“Fitz..?”

“It's... nothing,” he said but he was barely convincing himself and surely not her. And Jemma Simmons was anything but stupid.

She blinked and then narrowed her eyes.

“The New Year's party? During... our last year... at Sci-Ops?” Realization dawned in her eyes as she talked and she froze.

“Jemma... I-”

“ I asked you, Fitz,”she whispered looking at him with a confused expression. “I asked  _ you  _ if something had happened.”

“I-I know....”

“And you said-”

“You were in a panic when you woke up!”

He almost wished that he'd kept his mouth shut because Jemma stared at him with a hurt look that made him feel ill.

She'd been honest with him; from the beginning, she kept things to herself but she hadn't openly lied to him.

 

But he did.

 

-:-

 

Jemma stared at Fitz.

She'd been so taken in explaining what had happened during their first year and trying to explain her motives for keeping secrets from him that she had dismissed Fitz' shocked expression when she said that they had kissed.

Shocked not surprised.

Could it have happened  _ again _ ?

She looked at Fitz and saw the panicked glint in his eyes.

She had been honest with him: completely honest. The only thing that she hadn't openly admitted was that her feelings for him were still there and probably stronger than ever.

But even  _ Fitz  _ might have caught up with that now...

He hadn't said anything though. The creeping doubt that she'd been wrong about this the whole time made its way to her mind, cracking her fragile control.

 

She had to know...

 

“What happened?” She asked and Fitz started at her brisk tone.

“Jemma...” He said slowly and she shook her head.

“No, don't,” She stepped forward, inches apart from him. “I've been honest with you, Fitz. I think I deserve the same honesty from you.”

He looked at her with an expression that was equally pained and lost and she almost felt guilty to force him but she had to.

They were at a crossroad now; despite the fact that the mere thought made her insides churn, they had to see if they were going to go the same way or take different ways.

“T he only moment that I recall where something  _ might  _ have happened is the New Year's party,” she remarked, carefully choosing her words. “So... what happened?”

Fitz looked torn and drummed his fingers on his thigh, a nervous tick he had always had. She saw him shuffle slightly on his feet before looking at her.

"W-well… We talked a bit... Y-You kept saying that you wouldn't know what to do without me and... and,” he faltered in his words but then glanced at her and sighed softly. She saw him steel himself, looking ready for a blow or something coming from her as he turned to meet her gaze. “Well, it pretty much went like when we were nineteen, it seems. Only-” His fingers swirled in the air as they pointed at both of them. “-the positions were reversed.”

Jemma stared at him, feeling a wave of heat rise on her face as he ducked his head and blushed too.

She very clearly remembered that she'd been in a right mood in the days before the New Year's party. After learning that someone -Coulson, but she didn't know back then- had requested her and Fitz as scientists for a field team, she’d dealt with many emotions.

There was a part of her that was ecstatic and was brimming with excitement at the thought that she was finally going to see... more; more of the world, more of the unknown mysteries that the universe still held from her. More...

But there was a part that was gripping onto the normality that she had now and that was terrified that her partner wouldn't accept this much of a change. 

The thought that he might decide to stay back made something break inside her as much as forcing him to do something that he didn't want to do.

Jemma couldn't think of not having Fitz by her side: it made her physically ill.

And then there were her lingering and so confusing emotions that questioned the real reasons of her fear. Confusion that had heightened when she'd heard her co-worker speak of the possibility of being exempt from SHIELD's fraternisation regulation.

If they stayed at Sci-Ops, there might be a chance for....  
But if they left...

Jemma stared at the man in front of her, seeing how he couldn't meet her gaze and her mind flew back to that that morning when she woke up with him.

She remembered her confusion and then fear of having done something in her inebriated state that might have changed -or ruined- their relationship forever.

But he had said-.

“ You lied to me,” Jemma said softly, unable to hide the accusation from her tone. “I asked  _ you  _ if something had happened and you-”

“You woke up and looked so... terrified,” Fitz protested weakly, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn't-”

“ You lied to my face, Fitz,” Jemma stepped forward so that she was standing in front of him. “ _ You  _ lied to  _ me _ .”

“It would have changed everything just like you said!”

“ It was last year! Our relationship was different from when we were nineteen. We could have dealt with it differently!” They might have  _ considered  _ maybe...

He looked at her oddly and shook his head slightly.

“It wouldn't have been so simple, Jemma.”

“How would you even know?” Hadn't she just all but claimed that she cared for him? Had cared -loved him- for years?

Why wasn't he believing her?

“Look... Back then, I was confused too,” he admitted. “And yes, you kissed me-” Jemma was sure that her face was in flames again. “-and I kissed you back but that wouldn't have-”

He stopped talking and looked away and Jemma stared at him.

“Fitz?”

“I've been thinking about...us for a long time,” he confessed, glancing at her and then averted his gaze. “We were closer than ever and I started to think that there might be a-”

“-possibility for us to be together,” she finished and he turned to look at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “That night gave me...hope? I almost thought that we were heading somewhere. Our -well, snogging session at home sort of cemented that thought.” Fitz blushed. “But when you woke up, you looked so alarmed. I couldn't bring myself to tell you; if I had, I'd have to see you deal with my words without any memories to verify them. I-I came to think that everything that you'd said and done might have been just induced by the alcohol...” Jemma's eyes widened at his accusation and she opened her mouth to speak but Fitz barrelled on. “And I was a coward because I didn't want to see you confirm that.”

“You couldn't know that! How could you think that I-?”

“Let's be real, Jemma,” he stopped her again. “I saw the men you dated. I wasn't- I'm not like any of them.”

“No but-” He was more than all of them together.

“So, I just told myself that I was being delusional.” He shrugged to himself and looked away. Jemma could see the defeated stance he had taken, it was the one he had had when they were younger back at the Academy. Before they became friends. “I thought that it was for best if I hadn't said anything: we were leaving for the field and... well... that would have been different.”

Had he been thinking about the anti-fraternization rules like she had? 

“Fitz...” She took a tentative step forward and he looked at her. “That was why I kept asking you constantly if you were sure about leaving. I... I'd been thinking about Section 17 and all of its implications too.”

He kept staring at her but she still saw the weariness in his eyes along with the doubt.

He didn't believe her. Why?

“Ever since I heard Amy talk about it, I kept thinking that if... if there was a possibility of us being... more than just partners...” His blue eyes flickered and looked hopeful for a moment before clouding again. “If... If you had been unsure of leaving, I'd have considered staying at Sci-Ops and-”

“-asked for an exemption,” he whispered and she nodded. “But we left to join the Team.” His tone was almost bitter now.

“ _ We  _ agreed to leave the lab for field work and then Coulson asked us to join his team,” Jemma clearly recalled her elation at the news while ignoring tinge of disappointment in her chest. “Moreover... I thought I had misunderstood and was just projecting my own feelings.”

“What?” Fitz looked at her puzzled and she swallowed back a snarky retort. Her emotions were jumbled in her heart and she felt her resolve and control slowly fading.

He couldn't be this clueless about her feelings, could he? She'd told him what she had wanted to do... How could he still be surprised?

“When we left the lab for the additional training, you didn't show any sort of interest on me,” she explained after a calming breath. “You had gone back to being... friendly and all the little things you had done, all the things that made me think that there was something more...” She swallowed dryly. “It looked as though as you'd changed your mind.”

She looked at him and she saw his eyes flash with emotions again: surprise, confusion and then that odd-unclear gaze again.

“ We were going to be in a mobile unit,” he said. “We  _ are _ in a mobile team.” He seemed to be steeling himself to say something unpleasant and she tensed in response. “After that night, I just thought that I should put those memories and thoughts away and hope that they wouldn't surface soon.”

She could understand his reasoning but it didn't hurt any less.

“You wanted to forget?” She asked.

“I didn't want things to change,” he replied instead. “I kept thinking that I was just... crushing on you. A really long crush.” His cheeks took a pink tint. “I just thought that things would slip back to normal... but then... the virus...”

She inhaled sharply at his admission. Everything had changed after the Chitauri virus.

Her vision of the dangers of field work, her realization that anything could happen to her (and Fitz) and that her feelings for him were not temporary.

She loved him.

To hear that he'd been going through her same thought process was painfully obvious: they were so in sync with each other...

And yet... they never realised that they'd been both had the same doubts....

They’d both been waiting for a sign,  _ anything _ , that would make them believe that their feelings might be reciprocated. And yet, while she  _ still  _ waited for the sign, something had changed for him: Fitz was contemplating a future where they were not together, even as friends.

 

Why?

 

She was going to ask him, tired of running in circles and not getting answers on her own, when a sudden thought hit her.

 

Fitz disliked changes: he liked routines and long-term plans.

He didn't want to leave the lab because the field was a completely new and uncharted territory for him; yet, he had said that he was getting used to it now.

 

He had needed time to accept the change.

 

Jemma's heart drummed in her chest.

He had said that he'd hoped that things would go back to normal after they kissed the second time. And they had because he'd looked at other women; he'd even flirted with Skye.

But the virus had brought them closer and his mission in Ossetia had them back to those confused feelings again. They'd been dancing along that line between friendship and more for months.

But then?

Agent Triplett had asked her out and she had accepted.

 

_ She  _ had shifted the balance.

He'd been waiting for a sign from her and he'd taken that as a refusal; while she had been hoping that he'd do something about it.

He hadn't.

Something cracked inside Jemma's chest.

He was accepting the change again.

He thought that she didn't feel the same so he took the only route he knew and accepted the change.

Fitz cared for her: she knew that. He would never do something that might bring her pain or hurt her so, being the best friend she'd always had, he’d swallowed his feelings and thought about the best way to leave them both unscathed.  
He was letting her go.

Jemma felt her heart shatter in her chest.

Fitz had given up on her. On  _ them _ .

 

And it was all her fault.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…
> 
> Final chapter. I can only say that these two dumb-geniuses finally get it together. It has taken me a little more than a year but I've finally finished this story! :)
> 
> And I had to bump the rating up. Nothing too...scandalous is happening but I did it to be safe.
> 
> Hope you guys like it... :)
> 
> Thanks to my Beta StarryDreamer01 who helped me edit this..
> 
> Here we go... :)

 

* * *

_ A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other... Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever. _

-:-

 

Fitz looked at Jemma and knew instantly that something was wrong.

He'd waited for her to speak as he fumbled with words and admitted (more or less) that his feelings for her had just strengthened rather than diminished.

He was stunned, confused as he'd slowly come to the conclusion that she'd pretty much admitted the same.

But as he looked at her now, he realised that he must have said or done something because Jemma's eyes literally dimmed and turned blank.

“Jemma?” He stepped forward and his eyes widened when he saw a sheen of tears glaze her eyes. “Hey...”

She moved quickly and sidestepped him, heading to the room's door. Fitz barely had time to realise what she was doing and managed to catch her left wrist before her other hand had reached the knob.

“Jemma!” He forced himself between her and the door, hand still wrapped around her wrist.

“Hey, look at me,” he said softly, tugging at her arm, hoping to meet her eyes but her gaze was on the floor.

“Let me go, Fitz,” she said thickly and he shook his head even though she couldn't see him.

“No, I can't. What's-?”

“Let me go,” She tried to shake his hand off but he kept his fingers wound around her wrist, enclosing it securely. His heart hammered in his chest, wondering what had occurred to make her react like this.

“Jem-”

“ Let me leave, Leo..  _ Please _ .” He froze and saw a teardrop fall to the ground as her shaky words reached his ears.

Jemma had called him with his given name a handful of times and, usually, it was when she was frustrated or angry with him.

He'd never heard her say it with that heartbroken note before.

“Jemma, look at me...” He pleaded and moved his free hand to her face but she moved away. His fingers slipped off her wrist and he waited silently, feeling a heaviness in his chest.

What had he done?

What had he said to make her so upset?

He tried to recall his words but his worried mind wouldn't help him.

“Jemma, please, talk to me...” He said softly and he saw how she tightened her hands in fists. He swallowed dryly. “I can't... I can't fix this if I don't know what-”

“You don't have anything to fix,” she whispered and looked up. Fitz felt his heart clench when he saw the lines of tears streaming down her cheeks and the sadness etched on her face.

“Then why are you crying?” He wanted to hold her, brush the tears away, do something, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her without her permission.

“ It was... my doing, all of this, wasn't it?” She asked and he blinked at her in confusion.  _ What? _

Jemma moved her hands across her face, wiping away the tears before taking a long breath.

“I heard you walking down the stairs when I was leaving for that date,” she said softly and Fitz froze. “I thought that you didn't care... or didn't care about me going out with some other man. When I came back and you asked me about the date, I just-just thought that my earlier guesses had been right.”

Fitz swallowed again. She thought he didn't care about her?

Nothing was more wrong than that. He'd spent the evening in his bunk, cursing himself for being a coward.

“I-I always thought... t-that despite SHIELD and Section 17, we'd find a way to...” Jemma bit her lip and looked to the ceiling, clearly attempting to stop the tears from rolling down again. “I stopped thinking that what I felt for you would fade and I just waited... but it seems that I should have said something earlier, right? I've waited too long.”

Fitz felt as though he'd been hit in the stomach as her watery eyes fell on him.

“It's my fault if you've given up on me...” She whispered and her tone was so hurt that Fitz automatically reached for her but Jemma stepped back. His hand hovered in the air as he stared at her, too shocked to move.

What? Given up?  _ Her  _ fault? What was she even-?

“No, Jemma...” He shook his head. “What are-?”

“I get it, Fitz... I do...” She looked at him again, eyes so empty that it didn't even seem like her. “And I also... understand why you talked about me leaving in the future. It was either that or you going, yeah?”

_ No, no, no, no... _ She got it wrong.

“I need time to... digest this and to-” Jemma sniff softly and he was sure that she was biting back a sob. “-to clear my head. We're still partners and work together...for the moment at least.”

The last part came as a whisper and Fitz felt as though he'd been slapped.

She got it wrong: she got it  _ all  _ wrong.

He didn't want to leave her. He hadn't given up on her.

Fitz gritted his teeth as he realised that his fear and uncertainty had done this. Even now as they'd talked -argued really- Jemma had been honest while he had kept things to himself.

The only things that he'd managed to tell her had made her think that he'd stopped loving her. She probably doubted if he'd actually loved her in first place.

He had to do something now or he'd lose her.

He could accept losing her for another person or for unrequited feelings but not like this. Not because she thought that  _ he  _ didn't love her.

“Jemma, wait...” He moved towards her but she was faster again. She moved to his side and went for the door again.

“ I'd better spend the rest of the night in Skye and May's room,” she said, eyes low on the ground. “I  _ can't _ ... I... I'll see you... tomorrow, Fitz.”

He had to stop her. If they didn't clear this up now, they'd be broken forever.

“No,” he said in a soft yet firm voice and before he could doubt himself, he reached forward and hugged her from behind, arms wrapping around her shoulders.

Jemma froze instantly, her spine rigid against his chest.

“Fitz?” Her tone was confused and laced with resignation.

She was going to give up; just like she thought he did.

Jemma had believed in  _ them  _ since they were nineteen despite her confused feelings and perhaps hoped, that they'd both come around at some point.

Just like he had after realising his feelings for her; before believing that she'd chosen Triplett and saw him just as a friend.

Despite his attitude and his words, Jemma had tried to reach out to him and had talked to him; she had been honest about her emotions. He had to do the same: be honest and tell her the truth.

“I'm not,” he whispered against her ear. She tilted her head slightly, watery eyes looking up at him in confusion.

“What?”

“I'm not giving up, Jemma. I-”

“Fitz, you don't have to-” She interrupted him, turning away and reaching for his arms, probably wanting to pry his hands off her shoulders.

“I have to explain instead,” he remarked, clamping his fingers tighter around her. “We... we both have the habit to assume a lot about each other. We're so in sync that we almost know what the other is thinking but when our... feelings are involved, we think we know but-”

“You were quite clear about your thoughts, Fitz,” she retorted and made to struggle again but he held on to her. If he let her get away, he wouldn't be able to reach her again.

He hoped that it wasn't too late, that he hadn't driven her away with his words and doubts.

Feeling nervous, he moved closer to her and moved his arms around her gently. He felt Jemma stand tense and alert against him.

“Is this alright?” He asked softly. He was sure that he couldn't speak if she looked at him but he also needed to have her close to him.

“Hmm,” she assented with a little nod after a moment of silence and relaxed slightly in his grip, making him feel better.

“I-I'm just unsure whether I can say everything to your face so... this is the best way to speak now. I'll be honest, yeah? Starting from the beginning...” She nodded again. “I-I don't remember what happened during that night years ago when my mum was ill. But I do remember that I realised that-that you were really important to me." Fitz felt the heat rising on his face as he voiced his most hidden thoughts. He felt Jemma tense against him for a moment before releasing a quiet breath of air.

"You told me that you didn't feel alone anymore," she whispered, not looking at him and he could see the blush colouring her cheeks and neck.

He didn't doubt her words; with his mum ill and not knowing if she'd be fine, he had spent his nights wondering what would happen to him. Fatherless and with no close relatives, his mother was his entire family. The thought of losing her had terrified him...

But during his dark musings, he'd also seen a sliver of hope at the thought that Jemma would be there by his side. He'd taken her being there for granted, the only solid presence by his side and source of comfort for him.

She'd always been that for him...

"Figures... Drunk-me is a whole lot braver than sober-me," he chuckled mirthlessly. Jemma turned her head abruptly, her nose accidentally brushing against his chin and her eyes widened at their proximity.

“What?” She said, moving her head away.

“It’s always been- I never-” Fitz sighed against her hair as he failed to say what he was thinking. “I’m a bloody coward.”

“Fitz, you’re not-”

“ I  _ am _ …  I’ve always been a coward. At the Academy, I didn’t know how to approach you and just watched you from afar, barely talking to you. I spent so much time thinking about what to tell you that you thought that I hated you, for God’s sake.”

“Fitz… We didn’t know each other yet and I could have done something about it… And you explained that-”

“Yeah… and then? What about last year? What about just now?” Jemma turned around to stare at the door again and he felt his heart clench at her tense stance.

He wondered what picture they presented right now: standing in front of the door, him hugging her while she stood with her back against his chest, ramrod straight.

It was different from the hugs they'd shared throughout the years or the soft touches that Jemma would give him. She'd never been so tense with him.

He had messed up so bad this time...

Swallowing dryly, Fitz wondered how to continue. Words had never been his forte: he'd always been rubbish in expressing emotions or thoughts that weren't science.

But this was Jemma and she knew him better than anyone else and he cared for her more than anyone.

He'd just have to find the courage...

His fingers held her tight as he moved forward, resting his chin on her shoulder; he heard her intake of breath as he was suddenly enveloped by the lavender scent of her perfume.

That smell made him relax a tiny bit because it was familiar, something that he'd been surrounded in for years.

Jemma had been by his side for almost ten years.

He had forced himself to imagine a life where she might be with someone else, someone that she might truly love while he would stay in the shadows hoping that being her friend would be enough.

He never wanted to leave her. He loved her too much to want that...

“Jemma, I'm really sorry,” he whispered softly against her hair. “I... I didn't want to lie to you...or hurt you. Back then or now. I didn't want to do anything that could hurt you.”

She didn't reply but just nodded slowly; Fitz didn't dare to look at her and just went on talking.

"Last year, I should have been honest with you but... I was terrified that everything would change. We kissed, yes, but we were both drunk and when you were so alarmed in the morning that I-"

"You were looking at me with an odd look that morning," Jemma interrupted him. "I didn't remember anything and I wondered if I had done something acting on my...emotions. But-"

"-I said that nothing had happened," Fitz finished.

 

When had they started doing this, hiding their true emotions from each other?

When had they started to be so scared?

 

It was time to overcome this fear.

 

“If you had said something about it -anything that made me think that there was a chance- I'd have talked to you about staying at Sci-Ops and ask for an exemption from Section 17,” he confessed and he felt Jemma turn to look at him. He kept his face on her shoulder and caught a glimpse of her wide eyes. He took it as a good reaction.

“Or... leave for the field and just see what would happen if we were-” He tightened the hold of his fingers on her. “-together.” She hummed softly, showing that she heard him but he could see the doubt in her eyes.

“I'm sorry that I lied to you, Jemma,” he repeated quietly. “I was just a-”

“You said that the Chitauri incident made you realise that your feelings were not temporarily,” Jemma interrupted him instead. “Then... why didn't you stop me?”

“What?”

“Why did you go back up the staircase? I heard you coming down but afterwards-Why didn't you even show your face? Why ignore everything and then ask me if it went well?”

Fitz tensed slightly, clearly remembering his state of mind that night and how he'd convinced himself that being Jemma's best friend was going to be enough.

He realised how he'd failed to keep his composure with her throughout the weeks; how he'd thought that he could maintain their relationship unscathed while he did the opposite. How she had noticed all his reactions (or lack thereof) but didn't know what had caused them.

His attitude had caused them to argue and made Jemma believe that he no longer cared for her; that he might have loved her and then stopped.

As though that was  _ even  _ possible.

_ Be honest _ , he told himself.

“I-I thought I was wrong again,” he whispered. “I thought that you'd chosen him and that I was just deluding myself.”

“What?” She turned to look at him and he found himself staring at her amber eyes and was overwhelmed by the feelings that surged in his chest.

 

_ For once, be honest. _

 

“I tried to shun whatever feelings I had for you when we got to the Bus,” he admitted and unfurled his arms from around her when she tensed again. He kept eye-contact as he continued.“I-I just thought that it was the best thing to do. But then you were infected and I just realised that there was no way of ignoring... what I felt for you.”

Jemma's eyes were focused on him, and he could see her hands tighten in fists by her sides; it seemed as though she was stopping herself from nervously twisting them together. Or as if she was holding herself back from reaching out for him.

“We were getting there again,” he said. “Exactly as it had been back at Sci-Ops: we were both drifting closer to each other.” He thought about all their shared moments in the lab and their bunks; how they had stayed closer to each during missions. “There was also a part of me that wanted to act on these feelings, do something before someone else swooped in and took you away.” He thought about the subtle flirtatious words thrown her away by Agent Triplett. “Or before something happened during a mission.”

Fitz thought about the heart-stopping moment when he'd thought that she had died back in the train in Italy, when she stopped the Centipede man from throwing a grenade at him and Skye.

He had to look away as the images replayed in his mind: a blue mist, Jemma falling and him shouting her name and just seeing her there on the ground and feeling desperately hollow inside; then the overwhelming relief when Skye had the courage to get to her and check her pulse and said that she was alive.

“I didn't want to destroy our relationship for a lack of judgement or misplaced thoughts...” He added, looking at the ground. “So I didn't know what to do. I was looking for you that evening and when I found you there with Triplett... Everything just crashed down on me. I thought that I was wrong once again and that you didn't see me that way. So, I fled like the coward I am and when I saw you afterwards, I decided that being your best friend was more than enough for me. That it was better than not having you by my side at all.”

Fitz ran a hand through his hair and sighed, glancing at her.

“But I messed that up too, didn't ?”

-:-

Jemma was sure that her heart just stopped in her chest when he looked at her. His blue eyes held a defeated and lost look that made her want to reach for him and hug him. But she was holding back.

And she suddenly realised that  _ this  _ was their issue.

They both assumed that the other wanted or didn't want something and that had led to this argument and to all of its consequences.

They loved each other: there was no need to hide that now that they'd both blatantly said that they'd been harbouring feelings for years.

Yet they'd been both sure that the other didn't reciprocate. All because they were too scared.

Too scared to confess feelings that had been hidden for years.

Too scared to shift a relationship that had lasted almost ten years and that was so important for both; too scared to try and see what would happen, seeing only the negative aspects and not the positive ones.

Fitz' eyes drifted to the ground again and Jemma decided that it was time to stop this constant back and forth between them.

They were a breath away from falling apart; all their doubts and fears having got in the way. What harm would she do if she finally acted on her feelings?

Nothing would be worse than this.

She approached Fitz carefully, taking steady breaths to calm her wildly beating heart. She was a few steps away from him when he looked up and his eyes were a swirl of emotions: sadness, hurt, confusion and so much doubt.

She wondered if her eyes held the same feelings.

Moving slowly, Jemma lifted a trembling hand up and reached for his face. Fitz looked at her in surprise but didn't move away and waited. When her palm cupped his left cheek, she saw him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and then he moved his left hand up so that it covered hers.

He still had doubt in his eyes but for the first time that night, Jemma felt as though something was going the right way. She took another step forward, invading his personal space purposefully: she could feel the body heat radiating off him.

“Jemma?” He whispered, voice cautious and hopeful in a way that made her heart clench. She bit her lip and allowed her fingertips to splay against his cheek, grazing the soft skin. She looked up at him and saw his eyes flutter shut, as though he was savouring her touch for as long as she allowed it.

A moment of solace before whatever hurt was yet to come...

She couldn't forget the pangs of pain that she had felt tonight when he told her than he didn't see her by his side in the future; just like she couldn't forget how she had felt when she thought that he'd given up on his feelings for her.

It had felt like a vice crushing her heart.

But Fitz had been going through the same pain. He thought that she'd never see him as more than a friend and forced himself to ignore his feelings.

“You didn't,” she said softly, looking down and entwining her free hand with the hand at his side. “You're right, Fitz. We both kept silent and still keep assumed things about each other, about our feelings and-” She gripped his hand tighter. “-we ended up hurting each other for so long...” She couldn't bring herself to look up at him.

She could have stopped him weeks ago when she heard him coming downstairs and then go back; she could have followed him, demanded for answers and done something about it.

But she didn't and had allowed her own hurt feelings to take over, making her leave on a date that didn't mean anything to her.

“ _ I  _ hurt you...” she confessed and expected him to agree and shun her away.

But he didn't.

Fitz took the final step forward, their chests touching and moved their entwined hands up to her face.

“No,” he said, lifting her chin with his fingers so that she was looking at him. His eyes looked brighter now, without the cloud of hurt that had resided there for days, but he still looked cautious. “We've both made mistakes, Jemma.”

She nodded, looking up at him, and sighed slightly when his fingers started caressing her cheek and jaw while her hand had slipped to hold his wrist.

They'd never been this close to each other. It was intimate in a way that made her heart skip a beat and made her hope, once again.

They had to decide what to do: they'd both done and said too much to allow everything to settle back in the hazy, grey area of their relationship again.

They had to either move forward or just let go.

Jemma bit her lip, unwilling to consider the possibility of leaving him but equally scared of proposing something else.

What if he-?

She felt Fitz move, hand gliding down her face, and leaned forward so that their heads were almost touching.

“Don't go there, Jemma,” he whispered. “I know it myself: it's a downward spiral.”

She could clearly make out the flecks of light blue in his eyes and felt her chest constrict for the intensity of the emotions she felt.

“W-we both know our feelings,” she said, bringing him closer so that foreheads touched. “So... let's just be honest with each other, yeah?”

He nodded slowly and she could see a flicker of hope in his eyes. It gave her the courage to speak.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Fitz,” She gently caressed his face, taking in the features she knew so well. “Agent Triplett doesn't mean anything to me. No one means anything to me more than you.”

He looked at her with a stunned expression before nodding again.

“I'm sorry for what I said,” he said softly, breath washing over her face. “I don't- I never wanted to get away from you. I don't want to leave you, Jemma.”

She was sure that her heart skipped a beat at his words and she felt her lips quirking up slightly.

“Then you'll stay?” She asked and quickly added, “With me?”

“As long as you want me to be there,” He looked at her with a small smile and bright eyes.

Jemma breathed in relief and disentangled her hands and hugged him, arms wrapping around his middle. Fitz tensed for a second but then she felt his arms slowly wind around her and she shut her eyes, savouring the feeling of having him so close.

“I should have manned up and stopped you when I saw you leaving with Triplett,” he whispered in her hair after a while. “I'm sorry, really. I'm such a-”

“ You're not a coward,” she retorted immediately and moved a hand up to his neck, touching the curls at his nape. “You're one of the bravest people I k now.”

“This coming from the woman who jumped out of a plane and in front of an unknown grenade,” His tone was light but she could feel the way his hands held her tighter.

Jemma shivered.

“I'm not going anywhere, Fitz,” she whispered against his neck. She wouldn't leave him unless it was some absolutely necessary or a dire situation.

“I don't want- I can't lose you, Jemma,” His words were followed by him stepping back slightly and with his arms still around her. He stared at her intently and she recognised the look: it was the one he had back in their first year at Sci-Ops. The soft tenderness in his eyes made her heart melt.

“I can't either, Fitz,” she remarked. “I wouldn't know what to do without you.” Her hands moved up to cup his face and she felt a surge of emotions in her chest as he smiled; it was the first true smile she had seen on his face in weeks.

The words tumbled out of her mouth on their own accord.

“I love you.”

Fitz' eyes widened and Jemma was sure that she'd never seen him look so flabbergasted. She panicked immediately wondering if she'd just ruined everything, blabbering her own feelings when they were slowly getting there...

But then Fitz' hands tightened their hold around her waist and he looked at her with such a glowing face that Jemma couldn't breathe.

“I love you too,” he whispered and leaned forward until their foreheads touched again. Jemma's heart stuttered in her chest when she finally heard him say those words and couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips.

“Yeah?” She asked, holding him so close that their noses were brushing.

“Yeah,” he nodded, moving her head as well and grinned.

The burst of joy and elation that invaded Jemma's body wasn't comparable to any other happy moment that had ever occurred to her. She was sure that the look on Fitz' face mirrored her own.

She would have been happy to bask in that moment as they held on to each, standing in the middle of a foreign room after finally being honest about their feelings... but she couldn't help but notice just how  _ close _ they were.

Fitz' breath fanned warmly over her face and his eyes were a clear blue as he stared at her. She was aware of the softness of his cheeks under her fingers which changed under the sharp lines of his jaw that were slightly covered with scruff.

Jemma swallowed when her eyes fell on his lips, recalling the way they had felt against hers years ago and unconsciously licked her dry lips. She noticed that the seemingly innocent movement caught Fitz' attention and she realised that he'd been scrutinizing her just as she had.

He looked at her intently and moved forward, slowly sliding his nose against the side of her face as he tilted his head to reach her mouth. Jemma's eyes fluttered close...

Something hit the room's door with a loud thud that echoed throughout the room.

Jemma's eyes flew open and she jumped back, letting out a shriek that she muffled, clapping her hands against her mouth. Fitz yelped loudly at the same time and twisted around to face the door.

They were greeted by the closed door and silence. They barely had time to glance at each other when someone tentatively knocked at the door and mumbled an apology in French, followed by another voice who said something in German. Another apology for hitting the door, she assumed.

And then it was silent again.

Jemma looked at Fitz, lowering her hands and he stared at her with a bewildered gaze.

They seemed to remember what they'd been about to do before the interruption at the same time because they both blushed spectacularly and then averted their gazes. Jemma's hands latched to her cheeks and she stole a peek at Fitz who rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he looked around the room.

There was a moment of silence; however, Jemma's embarrassment was soon surpassed by disbelief. How many chances were there that they'd been interrupted like that?

Fitz' eyes fell on her and she could see the blush still colouring his face. Jemma slowly lowered her hands and couldn't help but smile as she saw how adorably flustered he looked.

He so resembled the awkward boy that she had met and slowly befriended at the Academy. And that same boy -now man- was in love with her.

She didn't know if it was the giddiness she felt or the toll of the emotions of the night but Jemma couldn't stop the laughter that escaped her lips. Fitz looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly but she shook her head at him and muffled her laughter with her hand.

He smiled bemusedly, understanding that she wasn't taking the mickey out of him but was merely laughing at the situation and chuckled loudly.

They walked back to the bed and sat down together. Jemma ran her hands over her face and hair, removing any trace of the new, happy tears that her laughing had produced and turned to her side.

Fitz was staring at her with a smile and soft eyes and she felt herself blush again.

“What?” She managed to squeak out and he blinked, seemingly unaware of how his gaze could affect her.

“N-nothing really,” he stammered with a small shrug and looked up at the ceiling. “I was just thinking that maybe the universe is conspiring against us. It seems that we can't seem to share a kiss that we will both remember.”

Jemma blinked.

Well,  _ that  _ was unexpected.

 

And incredibly suggestive...

 

-:-

 

He didn't say that out  _ loud _ , did he?

 

Fitz glanced at Jemma and was greeted by her wide-eyed expression.

Apparently, he did.

 

_ Oh Bloody Hell… _

 

Fitz wanted to smack himself and then possibly be swallowed by the room's wooden floor.

He was still in a state of awe of what had happened in the span of hours. He had gone from being desperate about his feelings and almost losing his best friend to-

She loved him. Jemma loved  _ him _ .

He felt lightheaded, heart fluttering on its own accord in his ribcage and he was sure that he was starting to smile like an idiot.

And he couldn't take his eye off Jemma. Nevermind the fact that he wanted to kiss her (and he would  _ forever  _ curse whoever rammed against their door) but he wanted to take in every detail of her without feeling as though it was wrong.

Her hair was tumbling down her shoulders in soft curls, her eyes were bright again and seeing her laugh had sent a warm rush of affection through him. She was beautiful in every possible way.

God, he loved her.

He couldn't believe that he could finally admit it and, even say it now.

Jemma tilted her head to a side as she looked at him and he realised that he had been staring for a while. Blushing, he rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged at her, hoping that she'd understand his state of mind.

Apparently, she did because she smiled softly, pink dusting her cheeks; she reached for his hand, lying between them on the duvet and entwined their fingers together.

That simple gesture was so intimate that it filled his chest with emotions, making him swallow dryly as he took in the sight of their joint hands. He looked up when Jemma moved slightly so that she was sitting closer to him and slowly rested her head on his shoulder.

He turned towards her and dropped a feather light kiss on the crown of her head, squeezing her hand slightly.

“Tired?” He whispered against her hair. He didn't know what time it was; it was fairly late when they'd walked into the room and he had no idea how long they'd been up arguing and talking rather than sleeping like the rest of the team. Funnily enough, all the tiredness that had been weighing him down a few hours ago had disappeared now, leaving him more alert than ever.

Jemma shifted and looked up at him, amber eyes peering through her lashes and he couldn't stop the flip in his chest.

“Honestly? Not really,” she replied, straightening up to face him.

“Oh...Me neither.” They had to be sharing the same adrenaline rush after their argument. “But we shou-”

Jemma was staring at him with a look that made the words die in his mouth. She tilted her head again, looking thoughtful and biting her lip absently.

He really shouldn't be noticing that but he did. His full attention went to her lips and to the memory of how they felt against his own.

His heart stopped and rebooted when Jemma's eyes fell to his lips and then up to his eyes. If he didn't know that telepathy was impossible - _ even  _ for FitzSimmons- he'd swear that she'd heard his thoughts.

“Jemma?”

“I was thinking that we should do something about this... conspiracy against us,” she said quietly and disentangled her hand from his, moving it up his arm to his face.

“ Y-yeah?”  _ Why the hell was he sounding so doubtful? _ “ _ Yes _ . Yes, I think so too,” he remarked, leaning forward until he touched her head and berated himself for being nervous again. He was planning to kiss her a few minutes ago, on his own accord and now he was sure that his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

Thankfully, Jemma always knew how to deal with him. She caressed his cheek and stared into his eyes with a warm look and smiled.

“We can't really allow something so aleatory like fate to play with us, can we?” She teased him, moving her other hand to play with the hair at his nape. “We should run an experiment that doesn't take in random variables... or alcohol.”

“Well, of course,” he said with a grin, cupping her cheek with his hand. “We're scientists: we need to-”

“-test and find the correct-”

“-resolution.”

He didn't know who moved first after they spoke together because suddenly he was closing his eyes as he kissed Jemma.

It was soft at first, a gentle movement of lips and exchanges of breath; it was as though they were memorizing the shape of their mouths while their fingers traced the lines of their jaws.

Jemma changed the pace as her tongue traced his lower lip fleetingly, nose nudging his nose upwards and Fitz was more than willing to give her what she wanted. He had to restrain a groan when she deepened the kiss and started shifting closer to him, her body slowly meshing to his.

He steadily kept up with her mouth, slanting and sliding their lips together so that they were constantly connected between breathy sighs and occasional, clumsy click of teeth that made them chuckle.

Her hands moved up and she locked her wrists behind his neck while his hands shifted to her waist. He felt as though she wasn't close enough, not at all, so he plunged forward, kissing her firmly and gripping her hips in an attempt to bring her even closer.

Jemma gasped softly against his lips and he took the chance to map her mouth with his tongue, relishing in the fact that he was finally allowed to kiss and touch her as he had wanted for ages.

It seemed that she was thinking on the same line because moments later, Jemma crawled into his lap, using her linked arms as a leverage and responded to every movement of his mouth with earnest.

He wasn’t really surprised: they were so in sync during work and in their normal interactions. It was almost obvious that they'd manage to keep their compatibility even now.

After an amount of time that he couldn't really define, Fitz realised that he had to break the kiss and take a full breath of air. After all that had happened, suffocating while kissing Jemma wouldn't really do (although what a way to go...).

He eased his lips off hers slowly, reluctant to put any distance between them but she didn't seem to want to make him move away. Moving her hands up and burying her fingers in his curls, Jemma kissed him again, thoroughly, and air was suddenly the last of his thoughts.

When they finally did break apart, Jemma nipped at his lower lip, soothing the little sting with her tongue and Fitz couldn't stop the groan that came deep from his throat.

Fitz opened his eyes only to find her staring at him, amber eyes wide and bright, with a small, shy and slightly smug smile on her face.

He was sure that all his brain power was lost to him when she let out a small, breathless sigh, licked her swollen red lips before gently head-butting his forehead and whispered:

 

“So... do you still remember?”

-:-

 

Jemma was sure that she'd never seen Fitz look so completely at a loss and out of it as he was now. And knowing that she was the main reason for it made her feel immensely proud.

She had had her share of boyfriends and could, without any doubt, say that she knew how to kiss but kissing Fitz was different for her both physically and emotionally.

Jemma sighed contently and brushed her nose against his cheek, taking in the scent of his cologne mingled with faintest trace of solder as she steadied her breath.

Kissing Fitz was familiar and new; it made her want to take the lead and make him breathless but also be shy and let him do as he pleased.

She took in his eyes, wide and bluer than ever and the redness that coloured his face and neck making him look adorably flustered. She ran her hands through his curls, liking the wiry texture beneath her fingers and giving in to a desire that she'd had for years. How many times had she seen him run his hands through his hair while studying or in the lab and had wanted to do the same?

She smiled warmly and nuzzled against his neck, basking in his warmth and enjoying his closeness.

“So-sort of hard to forget,” he whispered against her ear and Jemma had to fight a shiver at the deeper tone of his voice, brogue thicker than usual and, unexpectedly, enticing.

Without leaving the spot she had made for herself against his chest and neck, she turned her head up, nose brushing against his jaw.

“Hmmm... Good to know,” she replied, moving a hand down to caress his face and allowed herself to truly admire him. She felt a warm glow in her stomach as she took in his swollen lips, his symmetrical face and sandpapery jaw and his blue eyes.

He was beautiful and... he was hers to love.

Fitz shot her a quizzical look, lips quirking into a crooked smile that made her heart flutter in her chest.

Moving slightly back and then shifting around him, effectively straddling his legs, Jemma moved her hands to his shoulders to keep her balance and studied him more carefully, ignoring his stare.

Her palms slowly outlined his shoulders: they were broader than when they nineteen, sturdier and stronger and all the more appealing to her. She then moved down to his chest, feeling the warmth seeping out of him through his t-shirt and mentally catalogued the differences from the last time she had touched him. She paused over his ribcage, on his heart and was oddly pleased to feel the rapid thuds under her palm. She looked up and found Fitz' eyes fixed on her; they had turned a darker shade of blue and held a little glint of hesitation that contrasted with the gentle smile on his face.

“What?” She asked softly, leaning forward to brush her nose against his nose.

It was odd, really, all of these little affectionate gestures that she did to him: she never behaved like this with her previous boyfriends (Did she just think of Fitz as her boyfriend? Part of her wondered if she was being too eager or hopeful while the other part just agreed happily.)

Fitz was, once again, different.

She wanted to shower him with soft kisses and touch him gently, taking her time to memorize his body; she wanted to learn where he was ticklish and bask in his laugh and smile.

She definitely wanted to kiss him ( _ a lot _ ) and her mind provided her quite a few suggestive scenarios where they were less clothed....  _ Right _ .

There was this deep feeling inside her that just wanted to give him everything she could muster. She had never been in love before so she didn't know if this strong surge of care and affection was entirely expected or if it was just her.

Not that it mattered anyway...

He looked at her and shook his head, before shyly pecking her cheek.

“Nothing...” He replied, moving his hands to her waist and moving his thumbs in circles over her blouse.

“Really?” She insisted, nudging his nose again. He looked at her, then up at the ceiling and back at her. She smiled, encouraging him to speak: she wasn't going to leave anything unsaid between them. Not anymore. And he seemed to be thinking the same.

“I was just thinking.... that I could ask Ward to train me a bit,” His fingers grazed the hem of her blouse and she could feel his fingertips on her skin. “You know... Might be useful.”

Her bewilderment must have shown on her face because he laughed, the tremors going all the way from his chest to her.

“ I just... Well, you always seemed to like blokes who are more-” He squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest before relaxing again. “-like  _ that _ .”

She moved her hands up to his neck, shaking her head with a laugh.

“That won't be-”

“But you-”

“ I love you,” she stated, caressing the skin behind his ears. “ _ You _ , you daft man. And I love you exactly as you are.”

Yeah?” He looked so hopeful while he smiled that she laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Yeah,” she kissed his nose. “Always had.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Always will.”

He shot her a brilliant smile that made her heart skitter in her chest and she leaned forward, kissing him firmly. His hands found the bare skin beneath her blouse, sending a thrill up her spine as they spanned her waist. She swallowed whatever sound was going to escape her throat and broke the kiss, mouth hovering over his lips.

“I wouldn't have you any other way,” she whispered. “You're perfect just as you are.”

 

-:-

 

Fitz blushed at her words but that couldn't stop him from bringing her closer again. Kissing Jemma had become his favourite thing in the world and he was planning to do it as long as he could.

He slanted his mouth over hers and allowed his fingers to slide slightly under her blouse, gently caressing the soft skin of her waist and lower back. He was soon lost in the kiss, thoroughly enjoying the way their lips moved together and didn't realise that he'd pulled her flush against him and that his palms were going up and down her back.

She made a noise, some sort of keening mewl and wrapped her arms around his neck, hands buried in his hair. She was warm and soft against him and all of it did wonderful and terrible things to his self-control.

He was quite aware of the way his body was reacting to her but he tried to reign himself. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off or make a fool of himself, acting like an immature teenager.

But then she nipped his lower lip and moved down to his neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against his throat.

“Jem-” he choked when she sucked softly against his pulse. “Jemma...”

“Hmmm,” she assented, not stopping her ministrations.

“I...You-” He stifled a groan as she tightened her fingers in his hair, bringing him closer and inadvertently grounding her hips against him.

_ Oh, Mother of all things... _

He lowered his hands and gripped her hips, stopping her from moving again and slowly backed away. Jemma moved back too, looking up at him but without disentangling her arms.

He swallowed thickly as he met her gaze: her eyes held a heat that he'd rarely seen before and had never directed towards him. A part of his brain and his entire body were berating him for being a fool.

“ Er... I...” He cleared his voice and rearranged his scrambled thoughts. “If you keep doing that, I'll have trouble -er...-” _ Stopping myself from flipping you in bed and doing all sort of things I've dreamt about? _ “ -er.. controlling myself.”

She looked at him curiously, blinking twice and he ducked his head before looking at her again with a bashful smile.

“Sorry,” he apologized meekly. He saw the haze in her eyes clear out and her puzzlement turn into doubt

“I- ” Her fingers loosened their grip and she moved further back, putting space between their chests. He immediately missed the warmth of her against him. “Don't you want-?”

His brain short circuited as he caught the sense behind her words. She really-?

“ You-?” He blinked. She thought that  _ he  _ didn't want-?  _ In which universe would that be possible? _

Sitting straighter, he moved his hands from her hips to her waist and fixed his stare on her.

His body was giving him plenty of signals as to what it wanted and his heart was more than ready to give into the feelings he'd had for years but he wanted her to decide. He wasn't risking their relationship, past, present and future because of a quick decision based on a rush of lust and hormones.

There was all the matter of SHIELD and Section 17 but given the way they've been kissing, they'd already broken quite a few anti-fraternisation rules. But that wasn't relevant.

He loved her and he'd do anything she wanted.

“ Jemma,” He leaned forward to touch her forehead and smiled softly. “I-I'm pretty sure that you know exactly what I want.” She was  _ straddling _ him: there was no hiding really. “I just don't want to rush anything between us. But... do you want to stop?”

 

-:-

 

Jemma's doubts fled replaced by a warm feeling of fondness. Of course, he'd think like that: it was just like him to be overly chivalrous even when the situation didn't require it.

She wouldn't be snogging him like this, literally plastering her body over him if she had any doubt of what might happen.

But then again, this was Fitz and he was asking her.

“I think you know the answer to that, Fitz,” she whispered, pecking his nose.

“So... you don't think it's all rushed?” He asked, drawing circles on her thighs with his thumbs.

“Fitz, we've basically been in love for ages and have snogged twice -unknowingly for one of us each time- in the last seven years before tonight,” she remarked dryly and he snorted.

“If you put it that way, we've probably taken the concept of 'going slow' to another level.”

Jemma giggled softly, scooting forward and nuzzling against his neck. The rush of feelings that had been driving her had calmed down, leaving her happy to cuddle with him... for now...

He moved his hands up and hugged her. She felt his palms on the small of her back: it made her feel safe like she hadn't been in while.

She had always felt at ease with him and had always talked to him freely about anything but her feelings until tonight. This new dynamic between them was both familiar and new: their usual banter coupled with more emotions and proximity.

“Anything else bothering you?” She asked quietly after a few beats of silence. He shrugged slightly.

“Well...I was sort of wondering about Section 17-” She blinked and tensed slightly but his hands kept caressing her, making her relax. “-but then I figured that we've been snogging for a while so we probably don't give a damn anymore, do we?”

He turned slightly and she looked up, smiling at his soft gaze.

“No, we don't,” she agreed. “That has only helped feed our fears, really.”

“So, you're suggesting to break the rules permanently?” The smile on his face made her roll her eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with Jemma Simmons?”

“Is that your subtle way of asking me if we're going to be in a relationship?” She teased, gently head-butting his forehead again. “By asking if we're going to ignore the anti-fraternisation rule of our organisation?”

“ Did it work?” His blue eyes were shining in the room's lamp light, so full of happiness that she hadn't seen in a long time. And  _ she  _ was the source of that happiness: it made her chest swell with feelings.

“Yes,” she admitted, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Anything happening between us is our business: SHIELD isn't entitled to know or... stop us.”

“Or separate us,” he whispered, moving a hand to caress her face and then thread it through her hair. “I won't allow it.”

“ _ We  _ won't,” she corrected him, touching his head again. “So... to hell with Section 17. And beware, Leo,” she smiled teasingly. “That's the only rule I'm breaking; so don't expect me to vouch for you getting that bloody monkey assistant.”

“Spoilsport,” he mumbled but smiled and leaned to kiss her. She melted against him as his hands went through her hair and up and down her back and he brought her closer to him.

He had stopped restraining himself because shortly after he trailed a line of kisses down her throat, making her gasp when he found a particular sensitive spot. She felt him smirk and she buried her fingers into his curls, moving him up so that she could look at him.

“Don't get cocky,” she warned with a smile.

“I'm just glad that I remembered that spot from... last time.” His low voice and intense gaze made her shiver and she nodded absently.

“A-alright...”

-:-

Jemma looked so beautifully flustered that he was almost proud of himself. But then she quickly recovered and kissed him hard and all thoughts just flew out of his head.

He allowed his hands to wander a bit up as they kissed: up and down her spine, counting her vertebrae; then threading through her hair, liking the soft texture of her strands and then along the muscles of her back, her thighs and wherever he could reach over her clothes.

Jemma responded to his touch with soft sounds that were muffled against his lips. Her hands weren't idle either: he felt them roam his upper body and back as though she was memorizing him by touch.

He could feel her warm skin beneath her blouse and from where she was pressed against his chest; he was craving to touch her directly and not through her clothes.

Breaking the kiss and swallowing slightly, he nudged her nose, making her look at him. Her eyes shone under the lights and he felt a wave of warmth rush through him as she smiled at him knowingly.

“Your shirt's in the way,” she whispered and he grinned.

“Yours too,” he said and she looked delighted.

“We should do something about it, no?” He swallowed nervously.

“Yeah.”

She helped him remove his t-shirt and he tossed it absently on the ground. He was sure that she'd say something about him being a slob but she didn't: she was staring at him.

He was sure that he'd never feel self-conscious about his pasty and thin body after seeing the look on her face: she looked like she was itching to map his chest and shoulder. How he didn't know but the thought was enough to short-circuit his brain.

Shaking his head to gather his wits, Fitz ignored the chilly air against his chest and moved a hand to Jemma's collar, smoothing the material under his fingers. He realised that his hands were trembling slightly and he was about to move it away when her hand covered it; her fingers also shaking.

He looked up only to find her smiling softly at him and his nerves eased.

“I'll help you, yeah?” He suggested and she nodded. He undid the buttons from the top while she worked the ones from the bottom; they finished together in the middle and Fitz swallowed as he slowly opened her shirt, revealing a teal bra that left him staring at her breasts for a minute, before pushing it down her shoulders and arms. Jemma let out a shuddering breath as goosebumps covered her skin and she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck.

He'd never seen anything more stunning than Jemma Simmons and having her in his arms just cemented the certainty. His thoughts must have been plainly written on his face because Jemma beamed at him, making his breath catch, and kissed him hard.

Everything became a bit of a blur in his head as his only thought was to hold, kiss and touch the woman in his lap. At some point, he lied down on the bed with Jemma on top of him and then, in a rare bout of coordination, he managed to flip them over.

Jemma's little squeak of surprise made him grin and she retaliated by tickling his side and making him twist and squirm over her as he gasped between laughs. He got her back by moving up to her neck and dropping a line of kisses down to her chest.

She unconsciously moved her hips up right against him and Fitz froze and closed his eyes as white bloomed beneath his eyelids.

There was no way he was stopping now.

And then he realised.

 

Oh Hell...

-:-

 

Fitz' face went from ecstatic to panicked in a second and Jemma was immediately concerned. But then she saw the way his eyes darted to her and then down to their legs and she... just rolled her eyes.

Did he honestly think that she wouldn't have thought about  _ that  _ beforehand?

“Fitz, I'm on pill,” she said and his eyes shot back to her. He looked surprised and she arched a brow. “What? It's standard protocol for female agents.”

“Really? Why?” He asked and she sat up. 

There were many reasons for female SHIELD agents to take the contraceptive as a standard medical support but she didn’t think that Fitz would be happy to know them. He wouldn’t want to know that it was a way to protect the agents who might be undercover or captured by enemies.

“ You want to know…  _ now _ ?” She asked slowly. He stared at her and she could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he mulled over her question. Trust Fitz' curiosity to get the best of him in the worst moments...

“Really?” She insisted, her voice a mix of fondness and exasperation. She took in his messy curls, dilated blue eyes and flushed skin as he looked at her and shook his head.

This daft man was  _ hers _ .

Smiling, she wrapped her hands around his neck and he straightened slightly, keeping both in balance. She felt his hand creep up her spine and toy with the clasp of her bra. Jemma glanced at him and saw the silent question in his eyes, the permission that he was asking and nodded as she moved to kiss him.

She sighed as she felt the metal clasps give away moments later and pushed further into him, mapping his mouth with her tongue. A part of her wondered how many times he'd done this and a familiar prickle made its way into her stomach; the acidic twinge that she shoved down whenever he left for a date or looked at another woman and that she always called possessiveness rather than rightful jealousy.

She inwardly scolded herself. There was no point going there now; no point reliving the past and hoping that some mistakes hadn't been made or that actions had been taken. Assumptions and fear had led them to the brink of breaking apart and she was not going to linger on that.

They were here now without anyone to divide them or rules to stop them. No SHIELD or anything. Just one anonymous, comfortable room and them.

They were together.

“Jemma,” Fitz moved his lips against her ear, his tone gravelly as he pushed the straps down her shoulders.

She gave him a gentle look and hummed in pleasure before removing the garment and toppling in bed with him.

-:-

Everything became hazy.

Fitz couldn't keep up with all the feelings crashing on him. His heart just kept thudding in his chest and his brain seemed seemed incapable of coherent thought other than repeating one single word.

_ Jemma. _

She was beautiful, all flushed skin and soft curves as she gasped his name, holding him close. He relished in her touch and kisses and tried to respond as much as he could.

Every action was a reminder that he loved her more than anything.

He wanted to show her how much he cared; how privileged he felt that he could finally act on his feelings and be with her.

He'd do anything she asked him.

So when he felt her tense, he froze and waited, fighting every urge in his body to move. He just admired her and peppered feather-light kisses over her face. He smiled when she unconsciously wrinkled her nose as he kissed it and warmth surged in his chest.

“Love you,” he whispered against her lips. She opened her eyes.  They had taken on a golden hue and he saw the soft look in them as her body relaxed.

“Love you too,” she replied quietly and brought him closer to her, shutting her eyes again.

He followed her lead and his eyes closed as he melted against her, feeling elated that they were becoming FitzSimmons in more than just a name.

-:-

“ You  _ carried  _ me?

“Yes.”

“ Oh, Lord, how did I even forget  _ that _ ?”

“Hell if I know... You were sloshed.”

“You have to do that again.”

“No way! You're heavy.” She thwacked his tummy. “Jesus, woman,” he wheezed, capturing her hand. “Don't do that.”

Jemma bumped her nose against his jaw and he sighed good-naturedly.

They'd woken up at the chirp of her phone's alarm tone but Fitz had complained about sleeping way too little and had convinced her to lay under the large and warm covers, cuddling with him.

They were currently telling each other their mutual drunken blackout moments so that they'd both have the same memories (more or less) but Jemma half listened, too happy to just hold him.

Fitz was hugging her around the waist and his other hand was entwined with her hand between them. She admired the way his larger, more calloused fingers were entwined with her smaller ones and she immediately thought about their night together: how he held her hand as they moved in sync and how sweet and gentle he had been.

She sighed contently and snuggled closer to his chest and felt his arm hold her tighter.

There was a part of her that didn't want to leave the room. It was their small haven right now: free from rules and regulations. But she knew that they should get up and start to get ready.

“You're brooding.” She felt his lips on her temple and looked up to meet his eyes. Jemma smiled softly at him and shrugged.

“Reality awaits,” she said. “I'm trying to prepare myself.”

-:-

“Hmm,” he hummed absently and drew lines on her back with his fingers. He had been thinking about that too.

It was odd really. He'd walked into this room, expecting to pretend that he was alright and hoping to maintain his friendship with Jemma despite everything. Fighting and then confessing their mutual feelings wasn't what he’d expected. Waking up with her in the morning, all tangled limbs after making love was something out of a dream and yet it was true.

He didn't fear SHIELD. He knew that they'd manage to keep their relationship under wraps but he couldn't help feeling a ping of regret that this could have all started earlier if they'd been less scared.

If he'd been braver...

“Hey...” He looked down and found Jemma staring at him with a pensive look. She freed her hand from his grasp and raked it through his hair. “Don't go there, Leo. What-ifs and hoping to change the past won't help.”

He smiled: of course, she'd know. The feelings dispersed from his chest and was replaced by affection.

“I know...” he replied, kissing her brow. “I'll think about the present then, yeah?” He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her softly. “Much better.”

“Much better,” she agreed and kissed him again.

-:-

Jemma put her tablet away and checked the DWARFS case once again, scanning the room for anything they might have missed.

Thankfully not clothes. She'd had to hunt among the sheets for discarded articles of clothing while Fitz had roamed under the bed and around the room.

Then she recalled her partner's bashful grin when he'd suggested that they could shower together to save time and his little disappointed pout that she'd quickly kissed away before darting into the loo alone after she refusing. A fully clothed Fitz was quite distracting but a naked  _ and  _ wet Fitz would probably make her forget that they had a Team to join in first place.

_ Right... _

Jemma blushed furiously and continued to pack their things. The text tone of her phone made her look up.

  
[10:14 – Skye]: Meeting in 15 in the breakfast room: AC's orders. Are you two up or are you-?

The text was filled with probably every existing heart emoticon.

  
  


Jemma rolled her eyes and promptly answered.

 

[10:17 – Simmons]: We'll be there. And, NO, Skye.

 

Her friend's response was immediate.

 

[10:16 – Simmons]: You're boring but I'll drill you on these sleepovers with Fitz later. See you downstairs!

 

Jemma stared at the text and groaned slightly, dropping the phone on the table and bringing a hand to her eyes. How in the world was she going to deal with Skye and keep what had happened last night secret?

“What's wrong?” She looked up and saw Fitz walking out of the loo, fully dressed, and with his tie looped around his neck. She smiled at the sight of him and couldn't help but step up to kiss him, one hand curling against his jumper and the other raking through his curls.

“Hmm,” he murmured, smiling dazedly as they broke apart. “I didn't want to leave the room and look as though someone had been running her hands through my hair the entire night.”

“Right, that would be so embarrassing...” she agreed without removing her hands from their position. It was not her fault if he looked so appealing with that soft smile, bright eyes and light curls.

He shook his head and nodded towards her phone.

“Team called?” He asked. Jemma nodded and felt the little spike of anxiety return. “Skye said that we're to go down in 15. Well, 10 now, I suppose.”

“You look nervous.” He stared at her with concern and she smiled slightly.

“ It's nothing... really,” She moved her hands and reached for his tie, slowly knotting it. “Skye was teasing me and- Well, you  _ know  _ that I can't lie and-”

“It will be fine, Jemma,” he reassured her and she nodded, straightening his tie and slipping it under his jumper. She then started to unnecessarily smooth his shirt's collar.

“I'm just worr-” She started but he interrupted her, reaching for her wrists, he wrapped his fingers around them and leaned forward until their heads touched.

“Relax, Jem,” he whispered. “We'll just behave as we always have. You'll do fine. Remember: we won't over think things anymore.”

She let out a deep breath and nodded. She stepped away, ready to pick up her things when he pulled her close again.

“One last thing,” Fitz whispered and, before she knew it, he kissed her hard. Both her hands curled against his chest as she tried to keep her balance. When he moved her away what seemed like hours later but were just moments, Jemma was breathless.

He looked at her with clear blue eyes and a smile.

“So, do you still remember?” He asked and she recalled her own teasing question made at his expense last night. She huffed a small laugh and wrapped her arms around him.

“Hard to forget, really,” she replied and he laughed, hugging her.

 

-:-

 

When the Team left the hotel and walked to the SUV, FitzSimmons were at the back carrying their cases with Skye between them as she regaled them with the tale of her room-sharing night with May.

Jemma laughed during the most hilarious parts (“ _ She's so quiet when she sleeps! I swear I was tempted to check if she was breathing; but then I imagined that she'd kill me and make it look like it was my fault so I didn't.” _ ) and Fitz chuckled along. Skye then started drilling Jemma with questions but the biochemist didn't falter or lose her calm and withstood the barrage.

Fitz grinned when she glanced at him after Skye huffed and scrambled into the SUV, complaining about boring scientists. Jemma flashed him a breathtaking smile.

They'd be fine...

They were finally together.

 

They'd be alright.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm not done with this verse yet. I've grown quite fond of FitzSimmons here and have some plans for them in other stories. I'd like to explore their dynamics in a world that's not the headcanon series. :)
> 
> I hope that you guys liked this and thank you for the support and kind words! :)
> 
> Please, leave a review...:)


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